


Firebond

by Oakstone730



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bonding, HP: EWE, Hogwarts, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-08-22
Updated: 2015-12-19
Packaged: 2017-11-12 16:35:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 83,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/493385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oakstone730/pseuds/Oakstone730
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco is forced to tutor Harry in potions. A slight problem occurs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Harry stared at Slughorn in disbelief, "Malfoy? Why not Hermione? I can't -"

"That is my decision, Harry. If you want to stay in Potions, Draco Malfoy will be your tutor." Slughorn stood in front of Harry, his hands resting on his rotund belly. "Miss Granger is, as you well know, working on an Independent Study project. Mr. Malfoy needs to fulfill his hours for the Ministry probation. I must say I am disappointed in your attitude-"

"Right. Fine." Harry grabbed his book bag and made for the door. The rest of the class had already left the classroom. As he made his way quickly down the corridor he resisted the urge to kick the walls. More than ever, he was regretting the decision to come back Hogwarts as an eighth year. What he had hoped would be a chance to just kick back and enjoy himself with his friends instead was a nightmare. He hardly ever saw Ron and Hermione, they were too wrapped up in lust or love or whatever and the younger students followed him around like he was Merlin. The professors even seemed to expect far more from him than he wanted to achieve.

When Harry had failed to reproduce his stellar Potions work that he had done sixth year, Slughorn had been surprised. After a week and a half of scorched cauldrons and bungled potions Harry had been forced to confess that he why he had done so well previously. Slughorn had stared at Harry for several minutes, drumming his fat fingers on his desk until he had declared that the only way he could let Harry stay in the class was with a tutor. And it seems that the only tutor available was Malfoy. Harry shook his head in disbelief. He didn't want to ask any favors of Malfoy.

It wasn't as though he didn't think that Malfoy should be back in school. He had even testified at his trial, assuring that Malfoy didn't get sent to Azkaban for being a stupid git. Harry shifted the strap of his book bag on his shoulder, staring down the hall towards the corridor that he knew led to the Slytherin common room. He had successfully avoided Malfoy during the first two weeks of school and he would just as soon keep it that way. Malfoy made everything more complicated.

Harry headed slowly up the staircase, contemplating his options. He could drop Potions. There was no chance he was going to go on to auror training. He'd already decided that so he didn't need the class. Dropping the class would mean another talk with McGonagall however, she had already taken him aside twice, checking to make sure that he was "adjusting" to being back at Hogwarts. He'd felt like yelling at her that no, he wasn't, that he didn't know what the hell he was doing at the school. The only reason he'd return was because Hermione and Ron had wanted to come back, and he didn't have anywhere else to go.

The Great Hall was already packed when he slumped into the spot next to Ron. "What did he say?" Ron mumbled through his mouthful of corned beef sandwich.

"Ron, that's disgusting." Hermione looked over at them sourly, "Is he going to make you drop the class? I told you that no good would come from-"

"Still, Hermione? Can't you just drop it about that damn book? It was two years ago!" Harry shook his, "He said I had to have a tutor in order to keep taking the class."

"Well, that is great! Who is your tutor?"

"Malfoy." Harry pointed with his head towards the Slytherin table where the handful of returning eighth year students were sitting, slightly apart from the younger students. His white-blond hair still stood out even though Malfoy had it cut short now.

"Malfoy?" Ron shouted with a burst of laughter. Heads turned to look at them and Harry glared at Ron.

"Why don't you shout it a little louder?"

"Sorry, mate. Why Malfoy?"

"Hell if I know." Harry grumbled as he reached for a roast beef sandwich, "Think he is trying to punish me or Malfoy?"

"Probably both." Ron said, "Guess you aren't a member of the Slug club anymore-"

"Don't be silly. Slughorn is the head of the Slytherin House. I imagine he is trying to help Malfoy." Hermione shrugged, "You see how he is being treated in the corridors. Maybe he thinks that if Malfoy helps Harry then it might give him a little protection."

Harry nodded and stole another look at the Slytherin table. Malfoy was already finished eating and was heading out of the hall. He did that a lot, Harry realized. Leaving before the meals were over so that he wouldn't be in the corridors when everyone else came flooding out of the Great Hall. Malfoy used to stride through the corridors with his sidekicks flanking him. Now he was more like a shadow that slipped by when no one was looking.

"Have you talked to Malfoy yet?" Hermione asked, "Is he going to do it?"

Harry shook his head, "Nope, haven't asked him. That will be a treat in itself, he'll probably laugh in my face."

"Git can't say no? Can he?" Ron asked, when Harry gave an incredulous laugh, "I mean he is here on probation after all."

"Slughorn did say something about him needing to tutor to get his Ministry hours in."

"Go ask him, Harry," Hermione urged, "You are already behind the entire class, the sooner he starts tutoring you the better."

Harry grimaced and then nodded, "Fine. I'll go find him."

"How do you know where he is?"

Harry grinned and pulled out the Marauder's Map from his book bag, "Told you this would still come in handy." He picked up his book bag and headed out of the Great Hall. As he did so he realized that Malfoy and he had one more thing in common. Harry had taken to avoiding the corridors when they were full, but for the opposite reason. Whereas Malfoy was hexed as he walked through them, Harry was attacked by first years with eager faces and pieces of paper wanting autographs.

Harry found him in the southern courtyard, tucked into an alcove out of the wind. He had his text book open and didn't look up as Harry approached.

"Malfoy," to his irritation, Malfoy ignored him and just flipped the page in his book. "I need to talk to you."

"Go away, Potter." The git didn't even bother to look his way as he made a notation in his book.

Harry gritted his teeth and tried again, "I need your help."

At that Malfoy did look at Harry. "You need my help? I find that very difficult to believe. What do you need? Me to carry your Order of Merlin medal on fluffy purple pillow? Or perhaps you need me to walk by your side carrying quill and paper so that you can sign your autographs without slowing down. Or would you prefer me to carry a trumpet and play Here Comes the Saviour every time you enter a room?"

Harry laughed despite himself, "Sure. All that, and you can throw your cloak down in front of me if there is a mud puddle so my dainty feet don't get dirty."

"Think again, Potter. I rather like this cloak." Malfoy tapped his book, "I am studying. What do you want?"

"I, erm, well, Slughorn says to stay in Potions I need to get a tutor."

Malfoy shook his head in disbelief, "I am amazed he is letting you even stay. You are slowing down the entire class. We should be already on sleeping draughts and instead we are still doing bloody pick me up potions. If you were anyone else you would never have been allowed in the class. This is our NEWT year, Potter. For those of us who are not the Boy Who Was Too Stupid To Die we need to actually need to prepare for them"

Harry's cheeks flamed bright red, "Fine. Then you won't object when I tell you he says that you are my tutor."

"Good one, Potter. Like I would even consider it." Draco slid his book into his book bag and stood up, "That is a fool's task if I ever heard one. I pity the poor git who is going to have to try to teach you potions."

"Malfoy, he already decided. It is you or I have to drop."

"Then drop," Malfoy started to walk away and Harry grabbed his arm. A shock shot through his arm and he hastily let go of Malfoy's arm.

"What the hell was that?" Harry asked staring down at his hand in disbelief.

"What was what?" Malfoy said as he brushed his sleeve. "Don't Muggles know about static electricity?" Harry looked narrowly at Malfoy, it hadn't felt like any shock he'd ever gotten from static electricity. Was Malfoy using some kind of ward to prevent others from touching him? Considering the animosity that some of the students felt towards him he wouldn't be surprised.

"You tutor me and the hours goes towards your Ministry hours," Harry shrugged, "Surely, a little potionwork is better than having to work in shoveling manure for Hagrid."

"I wouldn't be so sure, Potter. The manure piles have a distinct advantage over tutoring. You aren't there," Malfoy slung his book bag strap over his shoulder, "I'll think about it."

"Don't think too hard. We need to start right away if I'm going to catch up."

"I said I would think about it. I'll let you know this evening." Malfoy walked away without looking back. Harry was left staring at his retreating figure. Malfoy was dressing a lot more subdued this year, no flamboyant waistcoats or robes. Plain black without even any Slytherin green except for his tie, but even without fancy adornments he was still the most noticeable student in the school.

Malfoy disappeared around the corner of the courtyard, no doubt heading down towards the lake. The last thing he needed right now was having to spend time one on one with Malfoy. The git was distracting enough in the classes they shared together, having to study together was going to be a nightmare.

"There you are!" Harry turned to see Ginny walking towards him, her broom over her shoulder.

"What?"Harry looked at her blankly, "Hey, Ginny."

"You forgot, didn't you?" Ginny said with a sigh, "Seeker practice? You promised-"

"Right. Sorry. I'll go get my broom and meet you on the pitch," Harry was grateful for the distraction. Ginny was the captain and seeker for the Gryffindor team. He had been secretly happy when it had been decided that eighth years wouldn't be eligible to play Quidditch. As much as he loved the game, this year he just wanted to fade into the woodwork as much as possible.

"Well, hurry up. I only have a couple hours before I'm meeting Neville for a study date." Ginny called over her shoulder as she headed towards the pitch. Harry waved his hand in acknowledgment and headed up the steps of the west tower to get his broom. All of the returning eighth years had rooms in the tower under the owlery, since there weren't enough places in their own houses.

Harry had not really been surprised last summer when Ginny had come to him and told him that she didn't want to get back together. Harry supposed he should feel something other than relief when she and Neville started dating but he couldn't help but feel glad that she had someone, and it wasn't him. Ron had objected to Ginny's change of allegiance more than Harry but Hermione had convinced him that it was for the best for everyone. Neville and Ginny had been through a lot the previous year at Hogwarts whilst Harry was looking for the Horcruxes. It was no surprise to him that they were together now.

OoOoOO

"Seven o'clock, Potter. Old potions lab," Malfoy didn't even bother to wait to see if Harry agreed before he went to sit at the Slytherin table with his back to Harry.

"What was that about?" Dean asked.

"Guess Malfoy decided to be my Potions tutor." Harry said with a laugh, "Would it kill him to be just a little polite?"

"He is doing you a big favor," Hermione frowned at him, "I'm sure it is awkward for him."

Harry nodded as he looked at the back of Malfoy as he sat down at the very end of the Slytherin table. He remembered the shock he had felt when he had touched him out in the courtyard, "Hermione, do you know of any kind of personal ward that would give someone a shock if you touch the person using it?"

Hermione straightened up and stared at Harry, "No, I haven't but it is an interesting idea. It could be very useful for victims of abuse or bullying. What made you think of it?"

"Oh, no reason."

OoOOoOoo

"So, teacher, how are you going to make me a Potions master?" Harry asked as he walked into the classroom and threw his book bag down on a lab table. Malfoy looked up from where he had set out a cauldron and chopping board full ingredients.

Malfoy laughed, "It will take every minute to just make you competent, Potter. I could tutor you until we were a hundred and you still wouldn't be anything more than adequate. We are starting with stirring," with that he slapped three potions rods down on the table. "Tell me, which of these rods would you use for the preparation of a restorative potion?"

Harry shrugged and pointed to the nearest one.

"Wrong. Beech, Myrtle, Ebony. Neutral, Positive, Negative." Malfoy pointed at each rod in turn, "This is basic potions procedures. Any potion that contains elderberry you use the ebony stirring rod. You just turned in your essay on a hundred uses of elderberries for restorative potions, did you not learn that you if you use a myrtlewood rod it will react with the poisons in the elderberry and strengthen it?"

Harry narrowed his eyes at Malfoy, "Slughorn never mentioned that you had to use a certain rod for-"

"That's because it is a first year, hell, it is a first week lesson. Snape covered it years ago. How could you possibly have gotten to eighth year and not known this?"

Harry shrugged, "I never-"

Malfoy grabbed the potions book, "Open this up to any page. What does it say?" Malfoy jabbed a finger down on the random page where the book had fallen open.

"ER," Harry mumbled.

"Ebony Rod. You just need to read the words, Potter."

Harry ran frustrated fingers through his hair, "Those aren't words, they are just letters. How are you supposed to know-"

"Again, Potter, you should have learned this first year. In an advanced Potions textbook they aren't going to spell it out for you like a nursery school primer. Now let's see if you can manage step number two in the directions, but I'm not going to hold my breath."

For the next half hour they worked side by side, Harry following Malfoy's snarled directions to cut, chop, and crush the ingredients that they were to use for the restorative potion. Strangely, it didn't feel uncomfortable working next to him. Harry supposed it was because they had had to work together so often when Snape was alive. The old potions professored had loved teaming them up in class.

Finally it was time to start mixing the potions. Malfoy lit the fire under the cauldron and directed Harry to start adding the ingredients. "Now stir, with the _ebony_ rod, three times in a counterclockwise direction..." Harry picked up the ebony rod and jabbed it into the smoldering light blue liquid in the cauldron.

"Not like that!" Malfoy grabbed Harry's hand and Harry felt the same jolt of electricity that he had felt when he had grabbed Malfoy's arm earlier that day.

"Shit." Malfoy grabbed his hand back and stared in horror at the cauldron where the liquid had turned black and was furiously boiling.

"Get back" Malfoy shouted at the same time as he grabbed Harry and shoved him away from the table. There was a loud whoosh and the room filled with silver smoke.

"What the hell was that? Harry shouted, waving the smoke away. The flames had gone out under the cauldron and there was a large black dripping spot on the ceiling where the potion had hit, it was dripping back down onto the table and floor. Malfoy was looking at Harry with horror, "Look, Malfoy. I didn't do anything wrong. All I did was stir with the cursed ebony rod."

"A surge. A bloody magical surge." Malfoy muttered, "It can't be..."

"Magical what?" Harry said, "That was like static electricity again, wasn't it?" He stood up and brushed off his clothes and held out his hand to Malfoy. The blond boy and ignored his extended hand and stood up on his own. Harry dropped his hand down; Malfoy was looking at him in disbelief. Walking around Harry, Malfoy used his wand to vanish the remaining potion and scourgified the surface of the table.

"Lesson over, Potter." Malfoy said not turning around.

"What? Wait a minute, you've got to tell me what went wrong. Why did..."

"We're done here. You must have fucked up the mixing of the ingredients. And we can't very well go on without a cauldron." Malfoy walked away from the table and sat down at the desk and pulled out his Transfiguration text. "You can leave."

"Listen, I'll get you a new bloody cauldron, just tell..." Harry stood his ground. Malfoy was refusing to look him in the eye. His head was bent down and he was staring at the book in front of him.

"Get out, dammit." Malfoy said, his voice cold.

"Fuck off, Malfoy." Harry picked up his Potions book, that mercifully had missed most of the explosion, and stuffed it back in his bag. Why did the git want to blame him for whatever that happened, all he had done was stir. Cursing the day he'd ever agreed to come back to Hogwarts he headed outside, it took two walks around the lake until he finally cooled down enough to go inside.

oOoOOOO

Later that night when he and Hermione sat studying in the common room he remembered what Malfoy had said about a magical surge. "Hey, Hermione, do you know what a 'magical surge' is?"

Hermione looked up at him with surprise, "Where did you hear about that? It is very rare, we aren't studying it in class-"

"Oh, I just heard someone say it and didn't know what they meant."

"It is when two people's magical auras are so attuned to one another that they have the ability to unite, or bond, their magic. Those with a united aura are said to have a firebond. It usually makes them more powerful magically, because they can draw on both their magical cores at once. Magical surge describes what happens before they are able to unite their auras - whenever they touch or interact their magic can surge or shock. It can be quite dangerous."

"I believe that." Harry muttered, "What do they have to do to fix it? Is there a potion or something?"

"Fix it? Well, most people who share an aura, they choose to bond." Hermione said, "I've never heard of a case where they haven't, it is such a rare gift."

"What do they have to do to bond?" Harry asked, a feeling of dread coming over him. Whatever it was that happened between him and Malfoy he wanted to end it as quickly as possible.

"Well, there are formal bonding ceremonies, called Ignis Vinculo, but I believe those were just formalities carried over from the last century. In most cases I've read about the two people bond through sex." Hermione said absentmindedly as she re-read her essay. "Why so many questions?" She added looking up at Harry. He had gone pale, "What's wrong? Is everything okay?"

"I need to go to the library." Harry said, hastily standing up.

He walked into the library and looking around he realized that he had nowhere to start looking for information that would prove Hermione wrong. He went up to Madam Pince, "Yes, Mr. Potter?"

"Erm, I was wondering where I could find information, for a project that I have to write, on, erm, magic bonding?"

"You must be working with Mr. Malfoy. He already has the books and is over there..." Pince turned to point towards where the all too familiar figure of Malfoy was sitting at a table by the windows; when she turned back Harry was gone, the door swinging closed behind him.


	2. Bondlines

Harry slumped against the wall outside of the library. He'd figured he must have misunderstood what Malfoy had said earlier, but then why was Malfoy sitting at a table stacked high with books about bonding? He banged his head against the stone wall with frustration. This couldn't be happening to him. All he wanted was to come back to Hogwarts and figure out what to do with the rest of his life and now... Harry stopped himself. There was no way he and Malfoy were bondmates or whatever the hell it was called. The idea was so ridiculous it wasn't even worth considering.

The sound of a door closing forced Harry to look down the corridor. Malfoy was heading away from him, his head down and hands fisted tightly by his side.

"MALFOY," Harry pushed himself away from the wall and started towards Malfoy who had frozen in place. He turned to face Harry, his jaw was clenched and he looked like he was about to explode.

"Leave me alone, Potter. Just leave me the fuck alone."

Harry stopped next to him, "I don't know what you are scheming, Malfoy, but it isn't happening. What did you do to that cauldron to make it explode? It wasn't any bloody magical surge. What are you playing at?" Harry reached out to shove him, and Malfoy backed away quickly, a look of alarm on his face.

"Don't touch me!"

Harry stared at him. Malfoy's eyes were blown wide with alarm. Harry looked down at his hand that was still outstretched and back at Malfoy. "You really think- there is no way." Harry shook his head, "You're wrong."

"Keep away from me, Potter. I don't want you anywhere near me." Malfoy turned and quickly walked away from Harry who was left staring at his back as he walked down the long corridor.

OOoOOOOO

Professor Roseberry motioned the class to take their seats after demonstrating the proper technique for blocking Class Five neuro-hexes. "As you know, the Ministry N.E.W.T. Board has instituted changes to the Defense Against the Dark Arts N.E.W.T. exams to reflect the heightened skill levels required by wizards today, in consideration to the recent troubles. It was observed during the final battle that dueling played an important part in the defeat of the Death Eaters. As a result the upcoming exam will require you to exhibit dueling skills far beyond those of previous students."

Harry was grateful that the professor didn't look his way as she was talking, although he felt a number of students staring at him. The fact that he had dueled Voldemort twice had been the focus of three of the unauthorized biographies that had been written about him so far. Roseberry was good, not as good as Lupin, but she knew what she was talking about and taught it well. She had been an Auror for ten years before leaving when Voldemort's followers took over the Ministry and had been a part of the Order.

"In order to prepare for the dueling portion of the N.E.W.T.s, which will represent a full half of your score, I have assigned each of you a dueling partner based on your skill levels. You will practice with your partner throughout the term and be prepared to give a demonstration at the end of the term."

Immediately there was a grumbling shifting in seats as students looked around wondering who they would be partnered with for the term. Roseberry added firmly, "There will be no switching of partners. I've already made up the teams and they are posted on the back wall. Class dismissed."

The room filled with the screeching sound of chairs pushing back as most of the class rushed to see who their partner was going to be. Harry looked around and saw that Malfoy was still at his desk, shoving his parchment and writing supplies back into his book bag. There was a scuffle in front of the list and then Harry saw Ron breakthrough the crowd and head towards him, "Are you my partner?" he asked hopefully, even though the look on Ron's face told him that he wasn't.

"I'm partnered with Zabini," Ron said a little grimly.

"Who-" Harry started to ask and stopped as Ron motioned with his head towards Malfoy who had stood up and was heading towards the back of the classroom.

"Sorry, Harry." Ron said, "Maybe she'll let you change-"

"She already said she wouldn't," somehow he'd known it was going to be Malfoy when he heard Roseberry's announcement. Ron was going on about trying to change partners as Harry watched Malfoy look at the list and saw his body stiffen when he saw their names partnered. Malfoy whipped around and looked at Harry, a look of disbelief on his face. Harry stared back at him, challenging Malfoy to say something, anything to him, instead Malfoy angrily pushed through the other students and left the classroom.

"What are you going to do?" Ron said as he watched Malfoy leave.

"Dunno, have to go talk to him I suppose."

"Between this and the potion tutoring you are going to be spending a lot of time with Malfoy," Ron shook his head, "There has to be something you can do."

Harry shrugged, Ron didn't know about what had had happened with Malfoy the night before, even though he was convinced that Malfoy was wrong he didn't want anyone to know about it. Absentmindedly he rubbed where the shock had gone through his arm. If that had happened when they had just touched hands whilst stirring a potion, what would happen if they actually dueled one another?

OoOoOO

Harry watched as Malfoy stood up from the Slytherin table, he waited a moment and then grabbed his own bag, "See you back in the dormitory," he said but doubted if Ron and Hermione even heard him as they were too busy cooing at each other.

Looking left then right when he got out of the Great Hall he saw just the flap of a robe disappearing around the corner on the far end of the corridor. Cursing he ran that way and made it just in time to see Malfoy going into the bathroom.

Malfoy was washing his hands when Harry entered, "What do you want, Potter?"

"You are going to tell me what the hell is going on."

"There is nothing going on. You just need to stay away from me."

"Why."

"Because you are a carbuncle on the side of hippogriff, Potter. You ruin everything. I want you out of my life."

"I'm not in your life, except that we have to be bloody dueling partners."

"We are not going to be dueling partners." Malfoy shook his head at Harry.

"You got Roseberry to let you change partners?" Harry said incredulously, "How did you-"

"I'm dropping the class. Problem solved."

Harry narrowed his eyes at Malfoy, "What problem is solved?"

Malfoy tried to brush past him to get to the exit and Harry grabbed him and shoved him against the wall, ignoring the shockwaves that traveled up his arm, "What problem, Malfoy?"

"Get off me!" Malfoy took a swing at Harry and that is all he needed. Harry blocked the punch and grabbed Malfoy's arms, pinning them against the wall. The electricity or shockwaves, or whatever it was making both of his arms tingle. He was so angry that he didn't care.

"Tell me this is some stupid Slytherin plot, Malfoy. Tell me that you know we aren't some kind of freaks who are magically bonded."

Malfoy pushed back with all his weight and Harry found himself lying flat on his back on the floor, Malfoy straddled his chest and started swinging wild punches at him. Harry started fighting back, using one arm to block blows as he swung again and again trying to hit Malfoy's nose, chin, anything. Malfoy had blood dripping down his cheek and Harry kicked with his legs trying to get Malfoy off of him. He grabbed Malfoy's left hand twisted it back, Malfoy cursed at him and clawed at Harry's arm with his other hand trying to get free.

Harry shifted, trying to get enough leverage to get off the floor when there was a flash and the room filled with a red glow. Before he could see where the light was coming from he was trapped as something started squeezing him from all sides, stealing his breath away. He looked up at Malfoy and saw bands of light were wrapped around Malfoy also, Malfoy had his eyes closed and he was chanting "No, no, no, no...".

"What's happening? What did you do!" Harry asked, looking around in alarm but there was no one in the bathroom and Malfoy couldn't have cast whatever was binding them.

There was another crack and the bands of light were gone. Malfoy immediately rolled off of him and lay on the floor staring up at the ceiling. Harry felt too weak to move, his arms ached, and he felt like all the energy had been drained out of him. He turned his head to look at Malfoy whose chest was heaving and he had one arm over his face, shielding himself from Harry.

"What was that? You have to tell me."

"We're bonded." Malfoy said bitterly, "It was the bondlines."

"Bondlines...I thought...there had to be a ceremony or something," he refused to think about the other way bonds were formed, because clearly they hadn't had sex.

"Ceremony or sex. Never heard of it happening through fighting but it doesn't matter. Our magic was charged up and it bonded. We both cut each other, the magic didn't care what kind of bodily fluids were exchanged, the blood sealed it."

"You are wrong. There is no way that just happened."

"Do you think I want this?" Malfoy turned to look at Harry, hatred in his face, "I thought the worst part of my life was over, but no, now I'm bonded for life to you-"

"We aren't - there is no way I'm spending the rest of my life with you in it, Malfoy. I don't care if we did just bond or not. We don't tell anyone. Just go about our business and no one will ever know."

"The bond will know," Malfoy said wearily, wiping the blood from his nose with the back of his hand. "Can't you feel it? The change?"

Harry was about to shake his head and then he felt just the edge of what Malfoy was talking about. There was something different about his magic. He could always feel the energy of his magic and now it was flowing faster, he could feel it was different.

"You, too?" he asked.

Malfoy nodded. Harry forced himself to sit up and to his relief some of the weakness was gone. He looked over at Malfoy who was getting to his feet. There was blood dripping down from his nose and a deep gash on his cheek, angry red patches shown obscenely against his pale skin. Harry looked away and went over to the sink, he didn't look much better. His hand fumbled as he turned on the faucet, he let the cold water run over his hands, washing away the blood. Malfoy's blood. His blood. His knuckles were smashed and bruised but he couldn't feel the pain.

Automatically he looked at himself in the mirror and saw the blood dripping from his own nose, bending over he splashed water on his face, washing it away. Malfoy was doing the same next to him. Harry felt numb, two minutes ago he was trying to beat Malfoy to a pulp and now they were standing next to each other washing away the blood from their fight, the whole thing seemed surreal.

"How do we undo this?"

Malfoy turned to look at him. There was no heat to his words when he said wearily, "There is no 'undo', Potter. This isn't some kind of Muggle marriage that you can just sign a paper and go your separate ways. This is magic. It's permanent," Harry watched as Malfoy rolled up his sleeve, a dark red band was stained against the paleness of his skin, cutting across the dark mark. "This can't be just washed away like blood from our fight."

Harry stared down at his own arm afraid of what he would find there. He turned away from Malfoy and stared at his own reflection in the mirror, seeing only the scar that Tom Riddle had left on his forehead when he had unknowingly bonded himself to Harry. A flash of anger tore through him, "No," Harry slammed his hand against the mirror, shattering his own reflection.

Whirling, he faced Malfoy. "No, I don't accept that, I spent the last seventeen years living with a deranged madman in my head. I am not going through the rest of my life tied to you. I don't care what we have to do but we are undoing this."

"You think I'm happy about this? I tried to stay away from you, tried to keep this from happening and you couldn't leave it alone!"

"If you had told me what was going on I wouldn't have had to trail after you like a stalker. If you had said 'Hey, Potter, don't get too close to me or we will be bonded for life' I would have moved Tanzania to get away from you."

"You have been a curse in my life for the last eight years, Potter. Do you think I wanted this?"

"Maybe you did! Maybe you thought this was a way to escape your probation and weasel your way back -."

"Fuck you!" Malfoy gave Harry a hard shove and turned and left the room, Harry didn't bother to try and stop him.

He sank down to the floor and just sat there amongst the broken glass from the mirror and stared at the droplets of blood that were splattered on the floor. Noises out in the corridor prompted him pull out his wand and lock the door. He just needed time to think, to find a way out. He picked up a piece of mirror and stared at himself in it.

His face looked the same, except for the spreading bruises where Malfoy's punches had landed. His right eye was swelling shut and he had a gash under his left, He stared bitterly at his reflection in the piece of mirror reminded him of the night in Malfoy Manor when Dobby had come to his rescue. There wasn't going to be any more rescues from Dobby or anyone else, he knew. Instead he was tethered for life to someone who hated him.

For the first time since Fred's funeral he felt like crying, but at the same time he wanted to scream and tear down walls with his bare hands. What had he done to deserve everything that had happened to him? How was it that all the forces in the magical world wanted to do everything they could to destroy him?

His gaze strayed to his right arm where he could feel the bond. With a shaking hand he pushed up his sleeve. It was there, coiled around his forearm like an angry burn. A firebond, Malfoy had called it. A choke of almost hysterical laughter burst out of him, he didn't even know what that meant. He traced the line with his finger, it didn't feel hot or even warm, but he could feel the pulse of it, he could feel the strange magic that must be Malfoy's.

Wrapping his hand around his forearm he covered the mark determinedly, he forced himself not think about Malfoy and the bond. This wasn't the time for whinging, he needed a plan. He wanted to get- no, he had to get away. The fact that he had no place to go didn't matter. He had to get away from this place. Unsteadily, he stood up and looked in the remaining mirror. Taking out his wand he carefully cast glamours to cover up the bruising and swollen eye. Looking in the mirror he looked critically at the results. It wouldn't hold up to close scrutiny but it would do. The next part would be harder.

OoOOoO

Ron and Hermione were cuddled up next to each other on the sofa in the common room when he entered. Hermione's head was resting against Ron as she read her Transfiguration text. The sight made Harry happy, at least one good thing had come out of everything that had happened to them. They looked up at Harry as he came through the door and Hermione sat upright, "What's wrong?"

Harry glanced around to see Neville, Blaise and other eighth years watching them, so he just motioned for Ron and Hermione to come with him and they quickly followed him up to his and Ron's room.

"What's wrong?" Hermione repeated as they were all sitting on Harry's bed. "You look-"

"Nothing's wrong. It's just that I realized that I can't stay here anymore. I have to leave." Harry had been tempted to just take off without telling them but he couldn't do that after all they had been through together.

"You're WHAT?" Ron sat upright almost knocking Hermione off the bed as he did, "What do you mean you're leaving?"

"Quiet down!" Harry cast a silencing charm and locked the door for good measure, "I thought it would be good coming back here. But I can't do it, I can't focus and..."

"Is it Malfoy? I saw you follow him out after supper." Hermione was looking at Harry quizzically, clearly trying to think back to everything that had happened over the last two weeks. "If it is the potions—"

"Malfoy is nothing to me. I just can't be here. I'm trapped. I don't want to do schoolwork. I don't want to take the N.E.W.T.s and I don't want to be an Auror. And if I don't want to do that then what is the point?" Harry didn't know how he was going to convince them, but he figured he had to try.

"You don't want to be an Auror?" Ron looked at him like Harry had just taken the last chocolate frog, "but we had it all planned out-"

"You had it all planned out. I don't want to be an Auror, maybe I once did but now," Harry shook his head, "It is the last thing I want to do. I'm done fighting, I don't want to be followed around the school with first years trailing after me like I'm Merlin."

"Where are you going to go?" Harry turned to stare at Hermione, her brown eyes were shimmering with unshed tears but she reached out and held Harry's hand. He thought it would take the most to convince Hermione that he had to leave and she wasn't even arguing with him.

"Dunno. I'll figure it out."

"No. You need somewhere to go, just to give yourself to get sorted," Hermione bit her lip and glanced at Ron who was starting between the two of them as though they both had lost their minds, "What about George? Do you think he would mind if Harry stayed there for a little bit?"

"You want Harry to go?" Ron looked at her incredulously.

"No, I don't want him to go, but I want him to be happy. And he wasn't here. You know that, Ron, we've talked about it."  
"But..." Ron's voice trailed off, "You can't just leave. What about McGonagall? You have to tell her something."

"I wrote a letter." Harry said, reaching down he flipped open his book bag and handed the parchment to Ron. "You can give it to her tomorrow, or I'll owl it to her when I get to London."

"You're leaving tonight!" Ron and Hermione both exclaimed.

Harry nodded, "No, point in staying around now that I've decided. Just going to fly over the gate. I love night flying -"

"Go to George's place. He'll take you in and won't tell Mum where you are, but you're going to have to write to Mum. It isn't fair to leave her worried after all they've been through. Just tell her that you're safe."

Harry nodded, "I'll write to them first thing in the morning."

"What about your things?"

"I'll take what I need and leave the rest. You can use the map, Ron. I won't need it."

"I can't believe you've got it all thought out already," Ron said, shaking his head slowly. "You can't just leave us here-

"You two have each other and I just need...to get away," from Malfoy, Harry thought to himself.

"Don't fly all the way to London on your broom, take a Thestral," Hermione said suddenly, "It will keep you warm and be easier than flying."

"Hagrid might get-"

"I'll talk to Hagrid. I just want you to be safe," Hermione said briskly. "Do you need food?"

"Honestly, Hermione…who do you think you are? His mum?" Ron said exasperatedly. Hermione gave a gasp and Harry laughed and hugged her.

"I'll take a Thestral and send it back. Thank you for understanding."

"I know it's been hard for you, Harry. I think maybe that it was selfish of us to want you to come back here with us. Studying and exams aren't everything."

"Who are you and what have done with Hermione!" Ron said shaking his head at her, but he looked at Harry with a serious look on his face, "Stay with George for a bit, it would be good for him to have someone around and I don't want you just taking off without knowing where you're going."

"I'll be fine," Harry wanted to say more but he didn't know what else could be said. He leaned forward and pulled them into a tight hug. Somehow he knew that things were never going to be the same between the three of them. He felt guilty about not telling them about the bond but there was no way he could even talk about it. The sooner he got away from Hogwarts and Malfoy the better. Almost as if he was reading his mind, Ron leaned back and said uncertainly, "Are you sure this isn't about Malfoy? You aren't letting that git run you-"

"No. It was just the final straw," Harry said with a shake of his head. "This was inevitable."

"Okay, well you better get going before everyone starts coming upstairs." Hermione looked around, "Why don't you pull out what you want to take with you and I'll shrink it and put it in your book bag, the rest you can leave here and I'll ship it wherever you want it to go."

Harry nodded, and it only took them a few minutes to get everything sorted. By then there were sounds of footsteps coming up the stairs. "Go quick," Hermione said, wiping her tears away, "Before I change my mind and insist you stay."

Harry nodded, he already decided he would fly on his broom to the clearing in the Forbidden Forest where the Thestrals lived. He opened the window in the room and slipped the book bag strap over his shoulders, "I'll write."

"You'd better."

With nothing more to say Harry carefully stood on the windowsill and mounted his broom. It was tricky kicking off but he forced himself to launch out of the window and his stomach gave a lurch as he plummeted downwards before his FireBolt leaped into action and he sprung forward. Looking over his shoulder he waved back at Ron and Hermione who were crowded in the window watching him. Hermione held up her hand and Harry forced himself to fly up and away.

The Forbidden Forest lay straight ahead of him but at the last minute he banked hard on the broom. One final fly around Hogwarts, he thought to himself. The grey stones shone blue in the moonlight and the windows were filled with flickering lights and movement. It was hard to believe that after everything that had happened to him here that he was just going to slip away in the night.

The Astronomy Tower loomed in front of him and he stared down at it, remembering that last desperate flight with Dumbledore. There was a movement on the rampart and he realized that someone was there, watching him. It took only a moment to recognize the white-blond hair. A flash of a smile flickered across his face and he circled back, stopping mere yards from him. Malfoy glared up at him. Harry smiled and gave him the finger, "Have a good life, Malfoy. I know I'm going to without you in it." He turned and flew off towards the Forbidden Forest.


	3. Return to Hogwarts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Renamed the story to something a little easier.

**As he clung to the back of the Thestral, Harry was glad that Hermione had suggested not flying all the way on his broom. Despite the memories it brought back of the night years ago when they rode Thestrals to the ministry, it was more comfortable than his broom and the Thestral’s body shielded him from the worst of the wind.**  
  
The mark on his arm had started to burn not long after he’d set off and now his entire body ached. He had to force himself to grip the Thestral’s neck tightly despite the worsening pain. Trying to see how far they’d come he’d cautiously looked downward and had to close his eyes as waves of dizziness swept over him. He felt his body start to slide, he grabbed wildly for the mane and straightened himself. Heart pounding he leaned forward and rested his head against the Thestral’s neck.  
  
It was almost impossible to keep his eyes open. Trying to stay awake he turned his head to watch the wing as it beat slowly up and down, but his eyelids wouldn’t obey him and he felt him falling asleep. Hours later, he woke with a shake. How could he have fallen asleep on the back of a Thestral? It had rained, he realized belatedly, his hair and clothes were soaked. The raindrops on his glasses blurred his vision and he could see nothing but the mane before him.  
  
Grateful that the Thestral could find George’s flat without his help, he closed his eyes. The pain had lessened but had been replaced by a numbing coldness. He tightened his grip, afraid of letting go in his exhaustion. He didn’t know how long it was until with relief he heard the clattering of hooves and jolt as they landed. Not caring if he was actually at George’s or the home of a Death Eater he slid off the Thestral’s back and finally gave into the darkness.  
  
OooOoOoO  
  
Shouts shattered the silence and Harry felt himself being roughly shoved and moved. He fought to open his eyes but could see nothing. A buzzing filled his ears and he tried to move his arms, to reach towards the noise but he couldn’t make them move. There was a lurch and he was floating and he sank gratefully back into unconsciousness.  
  
The next thing he knew a bright light pierced through him and he screamed in agony at the pain. Desperately he clawed at the source, trying to make it stop.  Hands pulled at him and he heard shouts and more hands holding him down, he couldn’t stop screaming even as a liquid was poured into his mouth and he slumped down again, the pain still there but it felt far away now. It wasn’t the Cruciatus curse then, he thought to himself and fought to make sense of what was happening. There was a jerk and he was caught up in a vortex and then there was nothing.  
  
OOoOOOo  
  
Harry felt like he was wading through a dense fog, struggling to find his way out of it. His body was unwilling to move and he couldn’t open his eyes. The first thing he sensed was the familiar smell of lavender, linen and potions. Hospital Wing. He had spent enough days and weeks in the place to know its smells intimately. How he’d gotten back to Hogwarts, he didn’t understand. Had he imagined the flight to London? He lay there listening for clues, he heard no talking, no footsteps. Gradually, sensation returned to him and he wiggled his fingers, grateful to feel them respond to the command.  
  
Tentatively, he opened his eyes and looked around. The long room was dark except for dimly glowing sconces on the wall. Definitely the Hospital Wing. As his eyes adjusted to the dim lighting he turned his head and gave a start as he saw Malfoy lying on the bed next to him, sound asleep. What had happened?  
  
He reached up and touched his head, no bandages. He couldn’t have bumped his head so hard as to have hallucinated the whole bonding nightmare. There was the sound of footsteps and Madam Pomfrey was standing next to him, a flask of potion in her hand. “Well, Harry, you certainly scared us this time. Here you go, drink up. The others will be back in the morning.”  
  
“Who--” Harry didn’t have time to ask and lacked the strength to stop her as she tilted the bottle against his lips, gagging as he did so he was forced to swallow the bitter potion.  
  
“Good lad, more sleep is what you both need.” Harry tried to protest but the potion was working and he slipped back into unconsciousness.  
  
OOOoOoO  
  
The next time he woke up it was definitely morning, there was a buzz of conversation and he strained to hear what was being said. Two or more people were arguing at the far end of the room. Opening his eyes just a little he looked towards the far end of the room where Arthur and Molly Weasley were standing next to Narcissa Malfoy.  
  
“They’re fighting over who gets to plan the wedding.” Harry whipped his head around to see George sitting in the chair next to him.  
  
“What happened?” Harry asked softly, not wanting the other Weasleys to know that he was awake. He needed to know what had happened before he had to answer their questions.  
  
“What do you remember?” George shifted his chair so that he could talk without his parents noticing him.  
  
“Being on a Thestral, trying to get to your place,” Harry said slowly, “Unless I hallucinated that too.”  
  
“Did you hallucinate anything about him?” George said, nodding with his head towards the other bed.  
  
Harry looked past him and saw Malfoy laying asleep in the bed next to him, “Oh, Merlin,” Harry’s eyes looked down to where his right arm lay underneath the covers. He fought the urge to look at his arm to see if the mark was still there. He could still feel the tight pressure of it around his arm. “I’d hoped it was a nightmare.”  
  
“All very real,” George said, “I found you up on my roof, unconscious and nearly getting trampled by a frantic Thestral.”  
  
“How did I get here?”  
  
“You would be dead if I had found you just a few minutes later. We still don’t know how you survived as long as you did. Would have killed anyone else, damn well nearly killed Malfoy.”  
  
“What? I don’t understand.”  
  
George nodded, “That much is apparent. When did you two bond?”  
  
Harry swallowed and looked away, “How did you find out about it?”  
  
“You were soaking wet and unconscious. I floo called Mum for help and was stripping off your wet clothes to warm you up when I saw the mark. Mum about died when she saw it. We knew we had to get you back to your partner but didn’t know who it was. The Thestral was the only clue, we figured you must have come straight from Hogwarts so we used the emergency floo network straight to come here. By then Malfoy had already been found unconscious atop the Astronomy Tower.”  
  
“It happened to him, too?” Harry looked at Malfoy again.  
  
“When did the two of you bond, Harry?” George asked again, “It’s important.”  
  
“Today, or yesterday, I guess.”  
  
“You’ve been out for two days. Do you mean the same day you left?”  
  
Harry’s eyes widened at the news of how long he’d been unconscious, “Yeah, I left a couple of hours after this happened.” Harry pulled out his arms from the covers and pushed up the sleeve of his pajamas to look at the mark. “You mean this is what made me sick?”  
  
“It didn’t make you sick. It --” George shook his head, “I don’t get why you took off. Didn’t you know how dangerous it was to leave so soon after bonding?”  
  
Harry looked towards where the Weasleys were still arguing Malfoy’s mother, “It was an accident. We didn’t mean to bond. It just happened and Malfoy said it was permanent so I decided to leave. I don’t want to be bonded to him.”  
  
George laughed, “You accidentally bonded? How could you not know you were bondmates before you had sex?”  
  
“We didn’t have sex!” Harry exclaimed, forgetting to keep his voice down. Immediately the adults on far side of the room turned to stare at him, he groaned as they started rushing down towards his bed.  
  
“Now you’ve done it,” George shook his head and stood up, “Look who woke up,” he said brightly to his parents as Molly Weasley flung her arms around Harry.  
  
“Harry, you’re alive!” Harry was saved from responding by the fact that she was practically smothering him in her embrace.  
  
“Gentle, dear.” Mr. Weasley said, “George, why don’t you fetch Madam Pomfrey?”  
  
“I’m right here, Arthur.” Madam Pomfrey was standing at the foot of the bed, “Well, Harry. Let’s see how you are doing. I’ll need everyone to step out for a few minutes.”  
  
“But, he’s only just woken up!” Mrs. Weasley protested, she was rubbing Harry’s hand as if to confirm he was really awake.  
  
“Just a few minutes, Molly.” Madam Pomfrey said firmly. “Why don’t you let Minerva know that Harry is awake? She can get Hermione and Ron released from class. When everyone is here then Harry can tell us what happened. I don’t want him tired out by having to repeat it.” Harry blanched at the thought of having to tell everyone about the bond, but then they already knew the worst of it.  
  
George pushed his parents towards the door and looked back over his shoulder and gave Harry a wink. Hoping that the wink meant George would delay their return, Harry sank back against the pillow in relief. He still felt weak and the burning pain in his arm hadn’t gone away. Pomfrey pulled out her wand. “Well, Harry, what do you have to say for yourself?”  
  
“Sorry to cause all the trouble?” he said wearily, not sure what else to say.  
  
“Humphh,” was her only response as she motioned with her wand over him, taking measurements and judging by her expression wasn’t pleased with the result. Harry watched as she did the same for Malfoy. She saw him watching her, “Do you want to see it?”  
  
“See what?”  
  
The healer cast her wand, moving it over Harry and then Malfoy. A shower of silver shot from the tip of her wand and slowly fell towards the floor. Harry gasped as the silver caught and held in a line from his arm to Malfoy’s. The silver shimmered and then started to move, and slowly the silver cloud changed, turning red as it started to flow in a figure eight between the two of them.  
  
Harry watched the red stream as it flowed between them. He was horrified to see the magic that was tying him to Malfoy but at the same time couldn’t look away from it. Lifting his right arm he watched as the stream of red threads followed the movement of his arm. It looped around his arm and did the same around Malfoy’s.  And it would be there for the rest of his life, physically binding him to Malfoy.  
  
He looked at Pomfrey, “Why is it thicker when it comes around my arm heading towards Malfoy, and thinner when it leaves him?”  
  
“Because he is still very weak. Your magic is stronger and is transfusing strength into him. This is why you are going to feel very tired for a while, you are healing both of you. Ideally, you should be a lot closer together so that he can recover more quickly.” Pomfrey looked concerned as she studied Harry, “We could see that you two had been fighting, I didn’t want to risk your reaction if you woke up next to him.” Remembering their last fight he couldn’t disagree with that, he had no desire to be any closer to Malfoy than he had to be.  
  
“How come the mark is on my right arm and his is on his left?”  
  
“The bond always forms on the casting hand of the wizard, Draco is left-handed.” Pomfrey looked at him with concern, “I wish you had both come to me before bonding. There is much you need to learn to prevent another incident like this happening. The two of you very nearly died because of your actions.”  
  
“He is going to be okay, isn’t he?” Harry asked, looking again over at Malfoy. He had no idea what had happened that had cause this but he hadn’t meant to harm Malfoy.  
  
“It will be a week or two before he gets all his strength back. His magic had almost completely drained from him.”  
  
“How did that happen?”  
  
Pomfrey looked at him sadly and shook her head, “You boys had no idea what you were playing with, did you?” Before Harry could respond there was the sound of a door slamming open and Ron and Hermione were running towards him.  
  
“You’re awake!” Hermione said as she hugged Harry. Ron approached more slowly and stood at the end of the bed. He was looking at Harry like he wasn’t sure if he was going to hug or yell at him. Ron’s gaze was fixed on Harry’s arm that was wrapped around Hermione. Harry realized with a start that he was staring at the mark. He pulled away from Hermione and pushed the sleeves of his pajamas down.  
  
The hurt in Hermione’s eyes was clear to see when she pushed back his sleeve back up to study the mark, “What happened Harry? I don’t understand how this could have --”  
  
He was saving from answering by Pomfrey, “Harry will tell us. I don’t want to have him to have to repeat the story again and again. We will wait for the others.”  
  
Ron looked like he was going to be object but there was the sound of footsteps and his parents, George, Malfoy’s mother, and a grim looking McGonagall soon were there. Pomfrey summoned chairs and they all sat around his bed.  
  
Pomfrey addressed them first, “Harry is still recovering, his magic was severely strained and he will tire quickly. Let him tell us what happened with no interruptions so that he can get through it before having to rest.”  
  
Harry looked to see where Narcissa Malfoy was sitting next to Malfoy, holding his hand tightly. She hadn’t said anything to him and he had no idea what Malfoy had told anyone before he lost consciousness. He didn’t know where to even start, everything happened so quickly it was unbelievable even to him.  
  
“Harry, it started with the potions lessons, didn’t it?” Hermione said softly, “I knew something was wrong when you came back and then you asked about magical surge a little while later.”  
  
Harry nodded reluctantly, “I was stirring the potion in the cauldron and Malfoy grabbed my hand because I was doing it wrong. Something happened and the cauldron exploded,” He looked around, “I didn’t know what it was, just that Malfoy called it a magical surge and was pretty ticked off. Wouldn’t tell me what had happened.”  
  
He looked down at the covers and shifted uncomfortably, “I asked Hermione what magical surge was and she told me about bonding. I went to the library to look it up and Malfoy was already there, he had pulled all the books on it.”  
  
“I knew it was Malfoy’s fault!” Ron exclaimed, “I knew he had to be behind --”  
  
“Hush, Ron.” McGonagall said.  
  
Harry sighed, “The next day we got the assignments for Defense, and I found out that I was supposed to be Malfoy’s dueling partner. After supper I went to confront him, to find out what happened. And to find out what we were going to do about being partners. That is when he told me he was dropping the class so that he wouldn’t have to work with me.”  
  
“Why didn’t you boys come to me!” McGonagall exclaimed, “Of course, two unbonded bondmates couldn’t duel together, it would have killed everyone in the room.”  
  
Harry blanched at that, “But we’ve dueled before, second year--”  
  
“That was when you were both twelve, Harry. Bonding can’t happen before puberty,” Hermione said, shaking her head. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell us what happened.”  
  
“Please! Just let him talk,” Pomfrey said in some exasperation, “I do need to know and if you interrupt you will have to leave.”  
  
“Anyway, it ticked me off that he was going to drop the class but still hadn’t told me what had happened so I confronted him,” Harry flushed as he glanced at McGonagall.  “And we started fighting. All the sudden the room filled with a light and we were both trapped by bands of magic wrapped around both of us, squeezing us.”  
  
“What were the colors of the lines?” Pomfrey asked.  
  
“Red,” Harry plucked at the covers. “I don’t think it was more than a minute and the bands went away. Then Malfoy said we were bonded. I didn’t believe him until he showed me the line on his arm. He said it was a firebond,” he closed his eyes, wishing he could use a time turner and prevent the fight, the whole thing from having happened.  
  
“He told me it was permanent, that we couldn’t undo it. We had words, and he left. I stayed in the bathroom trying to decide what to do. I realized I had to leave. I didn’t want to be anywhere near him. So I used glamours to cover the marks of the fight and told Ron and Hermione I was leaving. I left on the Thestral. It wasn’t long until I started not feeling well but I wasn’t going to turn back. Don’t remember much after that.” There was a silence in the room. Harry looked around the room and saw the grim expressions on everyone’s face.  
  
“Did Draco say anything about what he was going to do?” Narcissa Malfoy said quietly, from where she sat next to her son, apart from everyone else.  
  
“After the bonding? No, he just blamed me for not staying away from him, for starting the fight,” Harry looked over her shoulder at Malfoy, “What happened to him? Same thing that happened to me?”  
  
Pomfrey shook her head, “Not quite. Let me give you a little about bonding. There are three kinds of magical bonds. The most common is bloodbonds that often happens between identical twins.” Harry glanced over at George who was leaning against the wall. He looked at Harry and looked away and Harry thought of him and Fred, they must have had a bloodbond.  
  
“And then there are earthbonds, a bond that often occurs between wizards and or witches who have been together for many, many years. Their magical rhythms are so synchronized that they unite. Rare but there are dozens of such bondmates living today in England alone, hundreds if not thousands worldwide.”  
  
Pomfrey looked at Harry, “Finally, there are the firebonds. Extremely rare. Currently there are no known firebonds in England, other than you and Draco. No one knows how two unrelated magical auras can be so compatible as to bond but it does happen once or twice a century. When bondpartners discover one another they traditionally were completed the bond through sex, or with a combination of the Ignis Vinculo ceremony and sex. I’ve never heard of a firebond occurring through a fistfight.”  
  
“Lucky us,” Harry said with a grimace, he lay back down against the pillow. It was a battle to keep his eyes open, his body was aching and his arm was burning around the mark, “Was he right? There is no way to get rid of it?”  
  
“Only through death,” Pomfrey said grimly. “Which you both almost succeeded in accomplishing.”  
  
“How? I still don’t understand what happened.” Harry said, but he had to fight to get the words out. His eyes closed and he didn’t have the energy to open them again. He heard Pomfrey shooshing everyone out of the room and was asleep before their footsteps faded away.  
  
OoOooOoO  
  
It was nighttime again when he woke up next, the ever present pain of the bond was the first thing he felt. Irritated by it, he rubbed the mark to try and stop the burning itch. Seeing movement to his right, he turned to see Narcissa Malfoy sitting next to her son’s bed. She sat stiffly in the chair, her back not resting against the chair’s back. The only sign of exhaustion was the dark circles under her eyes.  
  
“Has he woken up yet?” Harry asked softly, not wanting to startle her.  
  
She turned to look at Harry, giving him a small smile of acknowledgement, “No, not yet.”  
  
“What happened to us? Why is he worse off than me?” Harry asked. She looked at him contemplatively and then came to some sort of conclusion and gave a nod. Standing up she moved her chair closer to Harry’s bed.  
  
“After a firebond is formed it is essential that the bondmates remain close to one another until the flow of magic between the two wizards becomes balanced. Your magical auras, although united, still need time to adjust. Until then there can be a battle between the two auras especially if they are separated. Especially if there is a difference in magical strength between the two wizards.”  
  
“How long does this take? And what do you mean by close?”  
  
“How close, depends on the strength of your magic, but within a hundred of yards or so would be the farthest you could be apart, provided there are times when you are in the same room. How long it takes depends on the relationship between the two bondmates. It can take days or weeks...or months.”  
  
“Months!” Harry shook his head, “I’m sorry Mrs. Malfoy, that just isn’t likely.”  
  
“Please, call me Narcissa. The bond makes us almost family and I expect we will be seeing much more of each other. You won’t have a choice, Harry, but to stay close together,” she said softly. “You see what happens if you separate.”  
  
“This happened because I left?” Harry looked at Malfoy, “I almost killed him?”  
  
She gave a strangled laugh and shook her head, “No, you saved his life, both of your lives.”  
  
“I don’t understand. If I had stayed, this wouldn’t have happened.”  
  
“If you had stayed he would have succeeded in his suicide attempt. He was found at the top of the Astronomy tower, unconscious. He’d already owled a farewell letter to me. We believe that when you left the strain of the bond being pulled apart caused him to lose consciousness first. If he had actually jumped, the shock of the bond being severed would surely have killed you.”  
  
Harry scarcely heard what she said after the word suicide and tower, “The Astronomy Tower? I saw him there. I -- I told him to have a good life, that I was leaving.”  
  
Narcissa leaned forward, “Did he say anything? Did--”  
  
“No,” Harry added hastily, “but I didn’t give him a chance to say anything. He wouldn’t have jumped, he wouldn’t have actually done it,” Harry was shaken to think that Malfoy had even contemplated taking such a step.  
  
“I think he would have done it,” she said, turning to look back at Malfoy. “If he had had any doubts he wouldn’t have sent me the note. He sent it first to make sure that he couldn’t change his mind.” She took a deep breath, “My son has been through a great deal in the last three years. I think this was just too much for him.”  
  
“None of this makes any sense. Why us? Why not two people who like each other?”  
  
Narcissa look like she was going to say something then shook her head, “You’ll have plenty of time to find the answer to that question together. Get some rest, Harry. The stronger you are the quicker Draco will recover.”  
  
Harry nodded and Narcissa went back to sit next to Draco. Harry realized he was still rubbing his arm where the bond mark was burned into it. Pomfrey had said that ideally they should be closer together to allow for a better transfusion of magic between them. Mentally he shook his head, not believing he was even contemplating doing what he was thinking but he had seen the worry in Narcissa Malfoy’s eyes and the idea wouldn’t go away. He sat up in bed, “Mrs. Mal--Narcissa, would it help if...would it help him get better sooner if the beds were closer together? Pomfrey said something about that helping.”  
  
Narcissa turned to look at him, “It would help, yes.” She agreed hesitantly, as if afraid to hope what Harry was suggesting.  
  
“Can you move his bed closer to mine? I didn’t know that my leaving would hurt him.”  
  
“Are you sure?” she asked even as she was drawing her wand, Harry nodded his assent and she pulled the chair from the space between their beds and then flicked her wand. Malfoy’s bed moved smoothly across the floor until a mere foot separated them. The pain that had been constantly there had lessened by half. Tentatively he reached out and held his arm out towards Malfoy, the pain all but disappeared.  
  
“The pain, it’s better,” he said with surprise.  
  
Narcissa nodded, “The pain is a reminder to stay close together. The farther apart you are the greater the strain is between your magic. It weakens you both, the effort to stay connected. If you were to touch, the discomfort would disappear entirely.”  
  
“Push the beds all the way together,” Harry said quickly before he could he stop himself. “Just for tonight.”  
  
She flicked her wand again and the beds tapped together. Harry sighed with relief as the pain dulled to next to nothing. He looked over and Malfoy was less than two feet away from him. He looked starkly different than he had just two days ago, so pale that he almost blend into the sheets. It was a stark contrast to how vividly alive and angry Malfoy had been the last time he’d seen him.  
  
Harry reached out and took hold of Malfoy’s left wrist. The pain from the bond stopped and he immediately felt a hum and a quickening of his magic, much like it had felt when they had lain together on the bathroom floor. He felt the faint murmur of Malfoy’s magic, weak but still there and flowing and blending with his own.  
  
“Thank you, Harry. I’ll let you rest.” He heard Draco’s mother quietly walk away. The last thing he thought before sleep overtook him was how strange a turn his life had once again taken. Going to sleep whilst holding hands with Draco Malfoy was the last thing he had ever expected to happen.  
  
  
  



	4. Hospital Wing

“I knew I was going to go to Hell, but I didn’t think you would be here with me.”  
  
Harry turned his head and found himself staring straight into the startlingly grey eyes of Draco Malfoy. He’d only been able to sleep in short fits and sometime in the night Malfoy had turned in his sleep and was now closer than before. He was also lying on Harry’s arm so he couldn’t pull it back, “This isn’t Hell, it’s Hogwarts,” he said tiredly.  
  
“Same difference,” Malfoy muttered as he flipped on his back and Harry immediately pulled his arm away. Instantly there was a wrenching pain as if they’d been torn apart. Malfoy arched in agony, his eyes bulging in alarm, “What the fuck!” he gasped.  
  
Harry hastily reached out and grabbed Malfoy’s arm and the pain stopped, they both lay still, panting as they recovered from the shock, “Sorry, stupid bond.”  
  
“Is that why...” Malfoy motioned to their two beds.  
  
“Yeah,” Harry nodded, “I woke up here and it hurt, the bond hurt I mean, not as bad as that though, and you weren’t waking up. It’s been two days and you hadn’t woken up. So, I had your mother move the beds together, it help--”  
  
“My mother?” Malfoy’s voice had dropped perceptively and Harry reluctantly nodded.  
  
“They know, they all know. The Weasleys, your mum, Pomfrey, McGonagall.”  
  
“Fuck.”  
  
“Tell me about it,” Harry said tiredly. When Malfoy didn’t respond he turned to look over at the other bed to see that he had fallen back to sleep. Harry lay there watching him until his eyelids blinked close.  
  
ooOooOOO  
  
“Harry.”  
  
Harry turned towards the voice from where he was watching the changing colors of the sunrise against the Hospital Wing wall. George was standing on the other side of the bed. Harry flushed as he saw that George was staring at Malfoy who had turned again and was now sleeping on his side facing Harry, his hand tightly holding onto Harry’s hand.  
  
“It isn’t what you think—“ Harry said hastily.  
  
“It’s okay, trust me. I’m the last one you’ll have to explain it to, I understand,” George sat on the edge of Harry’s bed. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I have to go back to the shop but I wanted to offer, if you want, to come back and talk to you and Draco about being bonded,” his face was somber and Harry could see no traces of joking this morning.  
  
“You mean—“  
  
“Yeah. Fred and I were bloodbonded. It isn’t exactly the same as firebonds but I thought it might help.”  
  
Harry looked down at where his arm was falling asleep from the awkward position Malfoy had pulled it, “That would be good, I don’t understand any of this.”  
  
George gave a quick laugh, “I pretty much picked up on that whilst dragging your half-dead body into the floo. Maybe if we talk you two can stay alive until Christmas.”  
  
“Can I ask you a question now?” Harry asked hesitantly, “It’s about Fred.”  
  
“What’s that, then?” George’s face had the same tight expression it always had when someone mentioned Fred.  
  
“Draco’s mother said that if he had jumped off the tower, that I would have died because of the bond.”  
  
“So how come I didn’t die, when Fred died?” Harry nodded, “What his mum was talking about is because your bond is so new, Fred and I bonded when we were fourteen, but that was just a matter of form, our magic had been working together for years. With you, your magic is still trying to balance and if Malfoy had jumped the shock would have caused a magical surge that would have stopped your heart, just like an electrical shock.”  
  
“That’s what it felt like, before we bonded, when we touched it was like an electric shock.”  
  
“It will eventually be safe. The discomfort that you feel when you aren’t touching will go away also.”  
  
“The sooner the better,” Harry muttered, his arm had fallen asleep under the weight of Malfoy and he didn’t know what to do about it.  
  
“I’ll come back when you are both stronger, there are things you can do that will help,” George said, he patted Harry on the shoulder, “Trust me, there are some cool things that you’ll be able to do with the bond.”  
  
“If you say so,” Harry said with a sigh, “Thanks, George.”  
  
He nodded and said good-bye, as he was walking away Harry suddenly remembered something, “Hey, George,” he called out softly, when the redhead turned around with his eyebrow raised, Harry hesitated then asked, “What you said when I first woke up, about your parents and Malfoy’s mum planning a wedding. That was a joke, right?”  
  
George’s face broke into a grin, “Harry, a wedding is the least you have to worry about right now,” he was still chuckling as he walked away. It wasn’t until he was gone that Harry realized that he hadn’t answered the question.  
  
“Is he gone?” the whispered words came from Malfoy’s bed. Harry turned to see that Malfoy was laying there with his eyes closed.  
  
“He’s gone. You awake?”  
  
“No, Potter. I’m still asleep,” he opened his eyes and stared over at Harry, “What was he doing here?”  
  
“I flew to his place that night. He found me and brought me back.”  
  
“Why not just advertise in the Prophet that we are bonded, have you never heard of discretion?”  
  
Harry was tempted to ask Malfoy how discrete he thought it was to intend to jump off the top of the Astronomy Tower but didn’t dare. “Prat,” he said lamely, too tired to even try to fight with him.  
  
“Git.”  
  
Harry gave a laugh and looked over at Malfoy who was staring out the window. Malfoy hesitated and then asked quietly, “You said we were out for two days?”  
  
“It’s been three days now, since it happened,” Harry said, picking at the blanket, “I slept through most of yesterday. You were... you were still in pretty bad shape. That’s why...,” he motioned to the beds.  
  
“You said,” they both looked down at where Harry’s hand was still gripping Malfoy’s arm. He hadn’t dared to let go of it a second time. “We can’t hold hands for the rest of our lives.”  
  
“No,” Harry sighed, “This is temporary, because we were so weakened when I flew away.”  
  
“Knew it was your fault,” Malfoy said tiredly.  
  
“Yeah, well. If you had told me that we could bond accidentally I wouldn’t have attacked you.”  
  
“What did they say?”  
  
“Who?”  
  
“My mother, everyone.”  
  
“Not much. They wanted to know what happened. I told them about the fight...so they know we didn’t...” Harry trailed off.  
  
“Sex, Potter, you can’t actually even think it let alone say it, can you?” Malfoy laughed, “I’m sure none of them thought that we bonded through sex. They know that you’d never deign to consort with a bloke let alone the enemy.”  
  
Harry turned to look at him, “You’re wrong. They did think that we’d had sex.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“Ron...Hermione. They know that...I’m bent...but --”  
  
“You’re what?”  
  
“Bent. Gay. Queer.” Harry said with a sigh, turning to look out the window again, “I came out this summer.”  
  
“You came out? The Boy Who Lived is a poof?”  
  
“Yeah. You have a problem with that?”  
  
“Not hardly, just find it difficult to believe that even if you are you would dare to admit it.”  
  
“Became a little hard not to when Ginny decide to announce it at the breakfast table the day after we broke up,” Harry admitted, staring down at the bed covers and restlessly picking at the wool with his free hand.  
  
Malfoy laughed and after a minute Harry joined in. “It wasn’t funny at the time,” he protested.  
  
“I beg to differ, I’m sure I would have been quite amused if I’d been there.” Malfoy said, his cheeks had a faint pink color which made Harry relieved. They were both clearly getting stronger. “Even if they know you are gay, it is a pretty big leap for them to think that you and I...”  
  
Harry shrugged, “Since there aren’t any cases of wizards bonding any other way than sex, and since we couldn’t explain. They had two days to wonder. Don’t want to imagine what the Weasleys and your mother thought about it.”  
  
“Did my mother...did she say anything?”  
  
Harry felt Malfoy’s hand clench, he didn’t bother to pretend to misunderstand, “She said that you’d owled her, she said she thought you would’ve gone through with it.”  
  
“I meant to...don’t know what happened. Can’t remember much after seeing you fly away.”  
  
“You blacked out, because of the bond being stretched when I left.”  
  
“So you saved my life, again,” Malfoy said the words bitterly. Harry didn’t have a chance to respond because of the slamming of the doors and the sounds of heavy footsteps and a loud argument.  
  
McGonagall was arguing furiously with the two aurors who were striding towards them, their red robes fluttering out behind them.  
  
“This is outrageous! You have no authority to enter Hogwarts and--”  
  
“Our warrant gives us all the authority we need. The subject violated the terms of his parole by fight--”  
  
“I am responsible for determining if Draco violates his parole. I --” McGonagall was standing her ground, shielding the auror from seeing Harry and Malfoy. Harry slid his hand, still holding Malfoy’s under the covers. He could feel Malfoy’s hand trembling.  
  
“You did not report that he had been in a fight, we received three separate owls informing of his violation,” the auror said coldly. He turned to face them and Harry watched as the auror’s eyes widened at the sight of their beds pushed together.  
  
“Mr. Potter?” he looked between the two beds, “What is going on here?”  
  
Harry sat up, carefully keeping the covers from revealing their hands. “What do you want?”  
  
“We are here to place Draco Malfoy under arrest,” the other auror said, drawing his wand as he stepped to the other side of Malfoy’s bed. Malfoy shook his head, and the faint color that he been in his face drained away completely, “We’ve received numerous reports that you’ve been fighting.”  
  
“You can’t take him,” McGonagall said firmly.  
  
“I assure you we can and will,” the first auror seemed to have regained his footing, “Whatever is going on here, Mr. Potter, can’t save him. It is Azkaban for Malfoy for violating the conditions of his parole.”  
  
There was the sound of hurrying feet and Harry turned to see the Weasleys and Narcissa Malfoy hurrying towards them, Mr. Weasley still had a napkin stuck into his collar. “What is going on, here?”  
  
“This doesn’t concern you.” The auror responded coldly, “Come on, Malfoy. Don’t make this any harder than it has to be.”  
  
Malfoy’s mother was standing on the other side of the bed, her hand resting on his shoulder. Malfoy was shaking, “It is out of the question, he has been extremely ill.” She said, looking pleadingly between the two men.  
  
Harry nodded, “You can’t take him. He has to stay here.”  
  
“As I told you, Mr. Potter. You have no say in this, no matter what your...relationship is with him,” the shorter auror said, his lip curling in distaste, “Although the reports we received said that he had fought with you which does lead to more questions. Lovers spat was it?”  
  
“Draco is not leaving this school.” McGonagall said firmly, ignoring the man’s comment.  
  
The aurors shared an amused look, “Go on, tell us why we can’t.”  
  
“Because you would have to take me with him. He goes, I go,” Harry said with more firmness than he felt.  
  
“Potter...don’t,” Malfoy said faintly, the first time he’d spoken since seeing the aurors walking towards them.  
  
“If they separate us, we both die.”  
  
The taller auror shook his head, “No need to be melodramatic. Perhaps your status as the Savior will give you conjugal visiting privileges.” He ignored the outraged gasps of Molly Weasley and Professor McGonagall as he motioned to the other auror, “Take him.”  
  
The room burst into alarmed cries as the adults tried to stop the auror from pushing Narcissa Malfoy out of the way and grabbing Malfoy, “You can’t!” Harry shouted to be heard above everyone else, he threw back the covers and held up their clasped hands. His pajama sleeve fell back revealing the red ring circling his forearm, “We’re bonded.”  
  
Silence filled the room. The two aurors stared at the matching bondlines on their arms. Malfoy had been pulled up right when Harry had pulled his arm forward. He sat next to Harry, a mere foot separating them, staring defiantly at the aurors.  
  
The shorter auror took a step back, looking to the other for guidance. “You’re bonded,” he said dumbly.  
  
“Yes,” Harry said, “And there is nothing you or anyone can do about it. If you don’t want the Prophet to hear that Harry Potter is in Azkaban I suggest you leave now.”  
  
“You can’t be bonded to a Death Eater,” the auror closest to Malfoy said, pointing at the Dark Mark on his arm, “It’s obs--”  
  
“Draco isn’t a Death Eater. As was clearly proven during his trial, he was forced to take the mark by his father,” Draco’s mother had found her voice and said the words firmly, “My son and his bondmate bonded less than three days ago. If you separate them, they will die.”  
  
The aurors had looked at one another, they clearly didn’t know what to do. “I’ll just show you the way out, shall I?” McGonagall said, holding her arm out towards the exit. They braced their shoulders and headed towards the exit without saying another word.  
  
Harry waited until they’d left until sagging back against his pillow. The confrontation had exhausted all his energy.  
  
“Fucking hell, Potter,” Malfoy muttered as he stared down at their hands that were still clutching each other. Harry didn’t want to risk letting go again anytime soon after what had happened earlier.  
  
“Language, Draco,” his mother said automatically, she was pale in the aftermath of the confrontation.  
  
“I agree with the sentiment, if not the words,” Molly Weasley said. “The news of your bonding is going to be in tomorrow morning’s Prophet, I’m afraid. We’ve been successful until now containing it, but now that the Ministry knows...”  
  
“Brilliant, Skeeter will have a field day dreaming up headlines,” Harry said tiredly.  
  
Malfoy gave a half laugh, “I bet she goes with ‘Boy Who Lived Bonded to Death Eater’”  
  
“Or, ‘Savior Sentenced To Live With Death Eater’.”  
  
“No! I got it “Final Revenge--”  
  
“Are you boys done having your fun?” McGonagall was back and was looking sternly over at them. Harry stopped laughing to look at Malfoy in surprise. Judging by the expression on Malfoy’s face he was as shocked as Harry was that they had been joking together. In fact, as Harry thought back, they hadn’t fought the whole morning. McGonagall made a coughing noise and they both turned to look at her.  
  
“We’ve given you a little bit of time to adjust to being bonded, but it is time that we discuss this situation.”  
  
“Must it be now, Minerva? They both clearly are still recovering,” Molly Weasley looked anxiously at Harry.  
  
“I fully expect that we have not heard the last from the Ministry, and I would like to have a clear understanding of the circumstances before I have to speak to anyone about it,” McGonagall looked at Malfoy, “Harry has told his side of what happened, I would like to hear yours.”  
  
“If he told you then what does it matter what I say?”  
  
“There are two sides to every story, Draco. Your perspective is equally as important as Harry’s”  
  
Malfoy seemed surprise but then shrugged, “I felt the shock when we shook hands out in the courtyard but didn’t think it could be what it was, I didn’t think it could be a surge. I mean, you read about it in fairy tales and legends but you never expect it to happen to you. Then, when I was teaching Potter how to stir a potion properly and when I grabbed his hand and it happened again, and it was a big surge. Blew up the cauldron.  And I knew, I didn’t want it to be true but I knew there was only one thing that could have done that to the potion.”  
  
“So what did you do?”  
  
“I got as far away from Potter as I could and went to look up what I could find about bonding. Everything I read confirmed what I thought,” Malfoy looked down at their hands that were lying on the bed, “I didn’t want this. I didn’t.”  
  
“We know, son,” Narcissa murmured, “But why didn’t you go to Professor McGonagall.”  
  
“I thought if I stayed away it would be okay,” Malfoy looked at his mother, “I was afraid that if anyone found out that they would think that we’d planned it, used dark magic to make it happen.”  
  
McGonagall shook her head sadly, “Draco, we certainly would not have thought that about you. Has the staff done anything to make you feel unwelcome or make you think we were suspicious of you?”  
  
“Potter thought it.” Malfoy gave Harry a sidelong glance.  
  
Harry protested, “Only because you wouldn’t tell me anything. I assumed you were covering something up.”  
  
“I was - I was covering up the fact that I didn’t want this to happen!” Malfoy raised his left arm, exposing the band. Harry wasn’t expecting the move and his hand fell away, they both gasped as the pain hit them. Harry took a deep breath, it wasn’t as bad as it was before he realized after the initial shock passed.  
  
Pomfrey hurried up to the bed, she had her wand out and was sweeping it over them both. Malfoy looked from his hand to Harry’s, he looked up Harry, “Not so bad?”  
  
Harry nodded, “Nothing I can’t handle, you?”  
  
“It’s okay,” Malfoy sighed with relief and lowered his arm so it was resting near Harry’s but not too close. Harry wiggled his fingers that had been entwined in Malfoy’s for too long.  
  
“I must say that I am most impressed with how you two are handling this situation, considering the rather rocky start,” McGonagall said.  
  
Harry realized that McGonagall was right, he and Malfoy hadn’t argued once since waking up. Pomfrey made a little ‘humph’ sound and looked at McGonagall, “I rather suspect that that is more of a credit to the bond than anything else.”  
  
“You mean the bond is making us not want to...” Harry started to say but stopped as Malfoy finished his sentence.  
  
“...beat each other to a pulp?” They looked each other trying to figure out what had changed.  
  
“Yes, in a word. You both are much stronger than you were before, which means your magic is much more in balance. As your magic blends and strengthens it makes you subconsciously more attuned to one another and with that comes a greater congeniality and understanding of what each other is feeling.”  
  
“You mean, Potter is going to be able to know what I’m thinking?” Malfoy looked alarmed at the thought.  
  
“Not likely, but we won’t know the full scope of your bonding until you are stronger. I just meant that you’ll be aware of one another and be able to tell when the other is angry or upset or conversely, happy.”  
  
“Let’s have Draco finish his side of the story.” His mother said, her voice was tense and Harry saw the flush rise in Malfoy’s cheeks. Harry wondered how he felt knowing that everyone in the room knew he’d almost committed suicide.  
  
Molly Weasley must have been thinking the same thing because she stopped Malfoy from talking, “I believe that Arthur and I should go send some owls, the rest of the family will bet anxious to hear that you have woken up, Harry and are doing better,” she took Arthur  Weasley by the arm and hurried him out of the room.  
  
Harry looked over at Malfoy as he started describing what had happened in the bathroom. He didn’t know he was surprised or not when Malfoy’s story matched with his, other than that Malfoy had understood immediately the significance of the light that had trapped them.  
  
“I kept thinking about what Potter had said, how everyone would think that I’d done it on purpose. That I did it to get out of my probation. And I couldn’t stand the thought of having to face all the accusations. I thought they would arrest me--”  
  
“But, Draco, surely you knew that--” his mother said in protest.  
  
“They were just here to arrest me? If it had been just a regular fight with Potter and we hadn’t been bonded I would be in Azkaban right now.”  
  
“Well, that is one plus to this whole thing,” Harry said, “It would be pretty naive of anyone to think that we could go through a whole school year without a fight.”  
  
“Are you calling me naive, Mr. Potter?” McGonagall said imperiously, “I told you both at the beginning of the year that I had every expectation of the best behavior.”  
  
“Sure, but it is just the way it has always been--” Harry said with a laugh.  
  
“I tried, I spent the first weeks here doing everything I could to just avoid trouble.”  
  
“That’s true. You did,” Harry said, “I noticed.”  
  
Malfoy shrugged, “Look what good it did,” his head fell back against the pillow and he closed his eyes.  
  
“I think that has been enough for now,” Pomfrey said, “We’ll have to wait to hear the rest of the story.”  
  
McGonagall nodded, “Right, I will go make arrangements for your new sleeping quarters.”  
  
“What?” Harry’s head shot off the pillow and he sat upright, “What do you mean?”  
  
“Until the bonding is complete you’ll need to be roommates,” McGonagall said, “We’ll have to see after you are both recovered how far apart you can be from one another, but until then you’ll need to share a room. Hopefully that will be sufficient to allow you to separate during the day to attend your individual classes.”  
  
Harry was glad that Malfoy had already fallen asleep. He couldn’t imagine what Malfoy’s reaction was going to be, or Ron’s. Tiredly, he just nodded to McGonagall and closed his eyes, too exhausted to even protest this newest development.  
  



	5. Life Sentence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it has been a while since I've updated. I am squeezing this story in even as my RL is imploding. Please be patient as it may be while before another update. I think I'm almost through the tricky parts of telling this story and the writing will get easier, soon. I am also way overdue on updating the Faragas story so if you are waiting for that one I'm hoping to have a chapter added next week or so.
> 
> Many thanks to YenGirl for her guidance with this chapter!

Draco stared fixedly at the ceiling. He'd been staring at it for the past hour. He knew every crack in the plaster and had thought of every possible odd animal that could be seen in the water stains. Draco shifted uncomfortably in the bed, groaning at the discomfort. There was nothing for it, but to wake Potter.

He turned to look at Potter who was sleeping just a couple of feet away. Potter was laying with his back to him, his untidy black hair was all Draco could see.

"Potter," he hissed, reluctantly reaching over and poking his shoulder, "Wake up."

"Harry," came the mumbled response.

"What?"

"Harry. My name is Harry. If we are really stuck being bondmates, I'll be damned if I'm going to listen to you call me Potter for the rest of my life." Potter said as he flopped over on his back. He looked over at Draco, wearily wiping his hand over his face. "What did you want?"

" _Harry_ ," Draco said the name with as much sarcasm as he could muster, "I have to take a piss."

"Thank the fuck for that," Potter said as he sat up hastily, "I think I'm about to burst."

"Why the hell didn't you say anything?" Draco said, he swung his feet off the bed and groaned as his overly full bladder protested the movement. Potter got off his bed on the opposite side. The bondmark immediately gave a warning burn as they were now farther apart than they'd been in the last 24 hours.

They made it over to the loo on the far side of the room, Draco eyed the room. It was small, mentally he calculated how far they'd be apart if he closed the door.

Potter gave him a disbelieving look, "Just go! If you don't, I will," Potter nodded pointedly with his head towards the door, he leaned against the wall. "I can handle any pain this thing gives me so long as you fucking go piss so that I can."

Draco didn't need to be told twice, he went into the loo and was pulling down his pajama bottoms before the door even closed, with a sigh of relief to at last being able to piss. The bondmark burned but like Potter said it was not anything he couldn't handle. He flushed and went to wash his hands in the sink. The door opened and suddenly Potter was there in the room with him.

"Sorry, can't wait any longer," and with that Potter in one motion pulled down his pajama bottoms and started to urinate into the toilet, a look of intense relief came over his face.

Draco stirred from his temporary shock of being intruded on, "What are you doing, Potter!"

"I couldn't wait any longer. What's wrong? You've never been in a dormitory toilet before?" Potter turned to look at him.

"Have you never heard of privacy?"

"Have you never heard of having to pee so bad your eyes turn yellow?"

Draco couldn't hold back the snort of laughter that burst from him, Potter looked at him in surprise and then grinned.

The sight of Harry Potter grinning at him (whilst peeing) made everything hit home, "What's going on?" Draco asked the question as he determinedly did not let his eyes stray towards what Potter was doing.

"What do you mean?" Potter asked as he tucked himself back in, adjusted his pajama bottoms and went to wash his hands. Draco watched as he took off his glasses and splashed water on his face. Draco wordlessly handed him a towel from the rack.

"What I mean is fairly obvious isn't it? Why aren't we fighting? We always fight."

"I haven't wanted to fight you for a long time, Draco," Potter was watching Draco in the small mirror hung over the sink. The sensation felt strangely more intimate than the handholding had felt. Potter hadn't put his glasses back on and the green eyes were all the more startling for it.

"You really expect me to call you Harry?" Draco asked. Potter smiled as he slid his glasses back and turned to look directly at Draco. Draco's eyes were drawn to the scar that he'd become so accustomed to seeing that he'd forgotten about it.

"It is my name," he repeated, "Goes with not wanting to fight. Every time you say 'Potter' it reminds me of all the shit that we both gave each other. We aren't eleven anymore."

"I know," Draco nodded, "But it isn't like we can just turn off everything that happened."

Potter shrugged, "It is weird, not automatically getting riled up. Pomfrey said it had something to do with the bond. But I can't say that it is a bad thing not automatically going into a fight mode."

"Do you think it will last?" Draco asked. He felt unsettled by the other man's calm demeanor. It wasn't what they did, and he didn't dare think about the chance of Potter not hating him.

"Don't know, you are the one who read the books on bonding," Potter said with a shrug as he dried his hands.

"The books didn't mention anything about it. Maybe enemies have never bonded before,"

Potter had been reaching for the door, pulling it open and he stopped to look at Draco, "We aren't enemies anymore, Draco."

Draco shook his head but didn't argue. Everything was jumbled in his head and he didn't know if it was because the bond or just the exhaustion he was feeling after being out of bed for the first time in days. They walked down the passageway towards their beds. Draco stopped short as he saw the two beds that were still pushed together and then down at his arm.

Potter glanced towards Pomfrey's door and then looked at Draco, "Should we separate them?"

"Sure," Draco said with a shrug, he was exhausted and the mark was throbbing again, but he wasn't about to tell Potter that the beds shouldn't be separated. Potter narrowed his eyes at him and then took three giant steps away. The bondmark immediately reacted and Draco winced at the pain.

Their eyes met and Potter shook his head, "Keep them together?

Draco nodded wearily and they climbed back into their beds. He noticed that Potter immediately extended his arm to the very edge of his own bed. Draco did the same with his arm and the discomfort stopped. Potter was on his back with his other arm covering his eyes and Draco couldn't help but wonder what he was thinking about. Even though Potter had said he didn't hate him he didn't think that was true. He'd seen Potter's face in the bathroom when it had sunk in that they were bonded.

Draco shook his head and turned to look out the window. The moon had set and the sky had taken on a dark purple color, with the first streaks of dawn was breaking through the horizon. As tired as he was he couldn't sleep though, he thought back to Potter's vehement denial immediately after they bonded that the bond could be a permanent one.

He pulled back his sleeve to stare at the bondmark that circled his forearm and cut through the Dark Mark in a deep red circle. The mark was so deep that even the Dark Mark didn't penetrate it. With a frustrated snarl, he pushed back the sleeve to cover the marks and stared out the window.

Harry bloody Potter.

He could spend the next hundred years remembering and contemplating all of his interactions with Potter since they were eleven and still not be able to understand why their lives had always been so intertwined. When he had returned to Hogwarts for this so-called eighth year he had been determined to avoid all contact with Potter. The only reason he had returned at all was because it was the only chance to serve his Ministry hours and still study for his N.E.W.T.s, and he was determined to move forward.

And now, now he was bonded to Potter. For life.

It was his fault. He had felt the magical surge course through his body when Potter had touched him that first time out in the courtyard. After the cauldron had been destroyed, there had been no way to deny it any longer. He'd known what could happen if they stayed in proximity to each other. He should have left the school immediately.

If he had done the right thing, if he had left Hogwarts as soon as he had realized what was going on, then Potter would still be free. Once again, he had made the wrong choice. How many times in his life could he follow the wrong path? And because he had, Potter was sentenced to a life chained magically to him.

Draco shifted nervously and glanced over to see if Potter had fallen asleep. He couldn't tell but he turned on his side anyway, so that he was facing Potter. There was a risk of the git turning and seeing Draco looking at him. Draco didn't think he was asleep he was lying to still to be asleep.

It was beyond all things that Draco could understand that they were this close in proximity to each other. It just felt wrong. It wasn't the way it was supposed to be between Potter and him.

Draco needed that distance between them. If he didn't have it, he shook his head in dismay. This situation they were in could become so much worse. Especially after Potter's confession that he was bent. Draco still could hardly believe that was true. And even if it were, why would Potter admit to Draco of all people?

The whole situation was wrong. Potter, this specky git who was as graceless as a house elf, deserved better. Despite all the mutterings Draco heard from his fellow Slytherins, Potter had saved them all. And yet now he was sentenced to a life not of his choosing. He, of all people, deserved to live whatever in life he wanted, not to be forced into a life beside a Death Eater.

Draco remembered the exact moment when Draco realized that he had to make things right for Potter. It was when they had stood side by side washing the blood away following their fight, after the bonding. Draco had seen his own reflection in the mirror and known that he had to do the only thing that would release Potter from the bond.

All the reading he had done had confirmed the one way it could be broken. For once he meant to make the right decision. His life had been dictated by the bad decisions that he and his father had made. This time he would not make that mistake, or so he thought.

Which was how he had found himself standing atop the Astronomy Tower that night. He had written his farewell note to his mother with a steady hand despite knowing it would break her heart, because what he was finally doing what was right.

He had been about to climb onto the balustrade when Potter had suddenly appeared on his broom before him. Where in Hades had he come from anyway? Draco wondered with a glance towards the figure next to him. It didn't matter, Potter had appeared and shouted something at him and flown away.

Draco had watched him disappear into the darkness and had been torn by a sense of gratitude and loss. It had seemed fitting, at the time, that they should have one last encounter, however brief. After seeing Potter, It had been difficult to force himself to turn back his thoughts to what he had to do.

What he needed to do.

The edge of the tower was only three feet away and as he had stepped forward he'd felt the crippling wave of pain that made his insides feel like they were being ripped from his body. It was the last thing he remembered until he had woken up next to Potter.

And now, three days later, they were sleeping mere inches away from each other, and Potter had saved his life.

Again.

How many life debts could one man give another before it became redundant? Or worse, a burden?

Draco shifted back onto his back and stared at the ceiling. He had replayed the fight, this latest fight, in his mind a hundred times since waking up in the hospital wing. He could remember every word that they spoke to each other.

The expression of horror on Potter's face as he realized what had happened. The denial. Potter's angry words. He replayed them in his mind again and remembered the one thing that Potter had said that had not made any sense. He had to find out what Potter had meant by it.

"Potter," he said softly, just in case he really was asleep. He wasn't, Draco realized, as Potter turned to look at him.

"Is it really so hard?" Potter said, he shifted so he was propping his head on his arm.

"Yes, it is, Potter," Draco said with a snort, "In the bathroom after the bondlines appeared. You said something about having to live with a madman in your head. What did you mean?"

Potter didn't answer and Draco looked over to see that Potter was back on his back, staring up at the ceiling.

"You meant the Dark Lord, didn't you?" Draco persisted, unwilling to let it go.

"No. I meant Vol-de-mort," Potter spat out each syllable as he turned to stare at him, "He was no one's lord. Just a man who was evil. Tom Riddle, was his real name. Don't you dare try to make him-"

"I'm not going to argue with you, we are all better off with him being dead. But I wanted to know what you meant when you said that he was in your head. He used Legilimency on you?"

There was no response, Draco reached over and poked his shoulder, "Did he?"

"Don't," Potter grabbed his hand and shoved it away, "He didn't-It wasn't really Legilimency. It was something else."

"What."

"I can't-I don't want to tell you," Potter's face was pale when he turned to look at him, "I suppose I'm going to have to eventually but I can't right now."

Draco had felt the bondmark tighten as Potter got angry, but wanted to know the answer, "How could he be in your-"

"Just drop it, Malfoy. Do I ask you how it felt when the mark was being burned into your arm? Do you want me make you describe what it was like to watch a bloody snake consume a teacher in front of you-"

"Don't-" Draco hissed in response.

"Then fucking get off my arse about this," Harry snapped. Draco gritted his teeth as the pain from the bond worsened. He knew that Potter was feeling it also by the way he was cradling his arm. He had to make it better since he was the one that somehow had forced a way past the calm that the bond had forced upon them.

Draco took a deep breath and looked over at Potter who was staring up at the ceiling, "I thought you liked that kind of thing"

"What?" Potter's voice held a warning in it, daring him to finish his thought.

"You, being bent and all, I figure you like blokes on your arse."

Potter did a double-take, "That's a joke?"

"Salazar, save me from Gryffindors." Draco muttered, "Yes, Potter, it was a joke."

Harry stared at him and then his lips twitched, "Good one," he said as he lay back down against his pillow. Draco gave a sigh of relief as the the tightness from the bond eased and he fell asleep, dreaming of bathrooms, and fragments of mirrors floating and haunting him.


	6. New Beginnings

When Harry woke up and felt the all too familiar disorienting feeling as he looked around and remembered that he was in the Hospital Wing. He stole a quick glance over towards Draco and saw that he was writing in some kind of journal. Draco lifted his head suddenly as if he realized that Harry was awake, without saying a word he closed the book and slid it under his pillow.  
  
There was a crack and two breakfast trays appeared on the tables next to the beds. Harry sent a grateful thank you to the elves in the kitchen for the food. Not only was he starving but it saved him from the awkward silence that had been hanging in the air since he’d refused to answer Malfoy’s questions.

  
“Finally, I can’t remember the last time I ate,” he said as he sat up and reached for the plate on the tray. His stomach growled in anticipation, eggs and rashers of bacon had never looked so good. It wasn’t until he was lifting the first forkful of eggs that he realized that the last time he’d eaten had been just moments before the fight with Draco in the bathroom when they’d bonded. He glanced at Draco to see if he was going to say anything but he was busy fussing with his tea.   
  
Narcissa Malfoy slipped quietly into the Hospital Wing as they were finishing breakfast. Draco gave her a tentative smile as she sat on the chair near his bedside. Her face seemed less tense to Harry than the day before, although the dark circles under her eyes showed that she probably hadn’t had a good night’s sleep.   
  
“Madam Pomfrey is researching to learn more about the implications of your bonds,” Narcissa said. “I told her that I would sit with you until I have to leave.”  
  
Draco’s face grimaced as he pointedly turned to look out the window. Harry realized that she needed to talk to Draco about what had happened and Draco wouldn’t want to tell his mother anything with Harry a few feet away, hearing every word.  
  
“I need to study my Potions homework, would it be alright with you if I cast a Silencio?” Harry asked, “I tend to mutter as I read.”  
  
Draco rolled his eyes at Harry’s obvious lie but didn’t object as Harry cast the spell. Reaching for his Potions textbook from the stack that had appeared overnight on his bedside table Harry pointedly started reading, turning away from the Malfoys to give them more privacy.   
  
Sometime later the bondmark tightened around his arm and Harry looked over to see that Narcissa had moved and was now sitting next to Draco on his bed. Even though they sat side by side on the bed with their backs to Harry they still had perfect posture, their heads bent together in obvious conversation. As Harry watched, Narcissa wrapped her arm around Draco’s shoulders and hugged him to her as she kissed the top of his head.  
  
It was such a loving gesture that Harry’s breath caught and he felt a burning in chest that he realized with a flash of horror was jealousy. Draco Malfoy had his mother and Harry had no one.   
  
After so many years he was accustomed to not having his parents but to see the motherly devotion and caring of that simple gesture shook him. Molly Weasley had hugged him and fussed over him yesterday. He knew she and Arthur loved Harry like he was their son but he was always keenly aware that he wasn’t truly part of their family. It stood out as obviously as his black hair next to the red-haired Weasley clan. Harry loved Molly but it had been a relief when she and Arthur had left the night before.  
  
Forcing himself to look away, he stared out the window trying to figure why it had hurt to see Draco and his mother hugging. He had never been jealous of seeing Ron and his mother embracing. Narcissa’s devotion to Draco had been apparent by her actions in those woods. Was it because it was Draco who had someone to turn into in this disaster?   
  
There was a poke on his shoulder and Harry turned and to see Draco looking at him, his lips were moving but Harry couldn’t hear what he was saying. With a flush he remembered the spell and hastily cast a Finite. Harry looked at Draco, “What’s wrong?”  
  
“What’s wrong with you? The bond is doing its thing.”   
  
Harry looked at his arm and cursed the bondmark that had somehow let Draco know that he was upset. He shook his head and lied, “Nothing is wrong. Do you need to talk more?”  
  
Draco looked like he was going to argue with Harry but Narcissa put her hand on Draco’s shoulder to stop him as she stood up gracefully from the bed.   
  
“Draco and I had a lovely chat, thank you for giving us that, Harry. I’m afraid I must go. Professor McGonagall is expecting me to stop by before I leave.” She reached down and kissed Draco on his cheek, “I expect regular Owls, Draco.”   
  
She walked around the beds and Harry was surprised when she came to his side. Holding out her hands to Harry, as he hesitantly took them in his own, she leaned forward and said softly into his ear, “Don’t be afraid to trust Draco, Harry,” She straightened and smiled at him, “And you are welcome to Owl me also, Harry.”  
  
She walked silently down the corridor and out of the hospital wing without looking back. The faint scent of her perfume lingered. Roses? Lavender? Vanilla?  
  
“It’s narcissus.”  
  
“What?” Harry asked looking over at Draco puzzled.  
  
“Her perfume. It is eau de narcissus with just a hint of jasmine.”  
  
“Oh, thanks.” Harry flushed, “I just hadn’t noticed it before.”  
  
“She rarely wears it. My father used to have it made especially for her.” Draco looked at Harry. “Are you going to tell me what that was all about?”  
  
“What?” Harry feigned as he turned and flipped his Potions book back on the table next to the bed.  
  
“What made the bond tell me that something was wrong with you and what my mother whispered in your ear.”  
  
“It was nothing.”  
  
“The fuck it was.” Draco’s words dropped to a hiss as Madam Pomfrey swept into the room.  
  
“How are you both feeling?” she said primly, glancing between them.  
  
“Fine,” they said in unison.   
  
“I’m sure you are,” she said dryly, as if she didn’t believe them. They lay quietly as she cast the same multitude of spells that she had used on them the day before. This was followed by dozens of questions about how much they slept and how far they had been apart.   
  
Finally, she cast the spell that showed the bondlines flowing between the two of them. Harry watched as the stream of light remained the same thickness as it traveled around both of their arms.  
  
Pomfrey nodded with satisfaction, “Very nice, boys. Now I would like you to move your arms away from each other and let’s see what happens.” They both shifted on their beds and watched as the red stream of the bondlines remained steady as their arms drew farther apart.  
  
“Good, very good. Why don’t you get out of your beds and we’ll see how far you can be apart.”  
  
It had been only a few hours since Harry had stood away from Draco and felt the bond react. He turned to look at Draco who was still on his bed. There was nothing for it but to try he thought as he slid off his bed and waited for Draco to do the same on his side. His eyes didn’t leave the stream of the firebond as it sped around in its dizzying figure 8. As Draco stood up on his side the stream fluxed just a little and then steadied.  
  
“That is good. Nearly six feet away. Much better than I expected. How does it feel?”  
  
In honestly the bond was starting to burn but Harry knew that answer would not get them out of the Hospital Wing.   
  
“It is fine. Doesn’t hurt at all,” Draco’s voice said firmly. Harry looked over at him and Draco lifted his chin as if daring him to contradict.  
  
“Really? Why don’t you take a few more steps apart and we’ll see how that feels.”   
  
Harry took a step backwards as Draco did the same. The red stream of light flickered and streaks of silver could be seen amongst the red.  
  
“Still no discomfort?” Pomfrey asked.  
  
“Not at all. It doesn’t feel any worse.” Harry said, forcing his voice to stay steady as the bond attempted to pull them back together.  
  
Draco nodded in agreement although Harry could see his face growing even paler and beads of sweat were gathering on his forehead.  
  
“Hmmphh,” Pomfrey said, as she waved them to move back to their beds. “Well, in that case I see no reason you can’t return to the eighth year dormitory. Your room is ready for you and your things arranged.”  
  
“Our room?” Harry cursed as again they both responded in unison.  
  
“Yes, you’ll of course be rooming together for the foreseeable future. You’ll need to talk to McGonagall about your class schedule. The bond won’t let you be more than six feet apart.” Pomfrey eyed them sternly, “No matter how hard you gritted your teeth, clearly ten feet was too far, but don’t worry I’ll let you go back to your dormitory on the understanding that you will return once a day to allow me to monitor your progress and that neither of you will do anything to harm the other.”  
  
OOOooooOOO  
  
Harry was glad that classes were in session and the corridors empty as they made their way back to the dormitory. Draco was silent next to him, his head uncharacteristically bent down, staring at the floor.   
  
Their footsteps rang hollowly on the stone steps and Harry didn’t try to think of something to say. What could be said? They were going back to their room. It had the sound of finality about it.   
  
They would be sharing a room, sharing meals, sharing classes. The bond would decide it for them. Harry glanced down at his right arm. It was surreal to think that they would be spending the rest of their lives together. The thought of that twisted Harry’s stomach into knots. How was that even going to work? Draco hated him, he always had. How could anyone expect them to do this...forever?  
  
Pomfrey had said that the bond would determine what lay ahead for them. Again his life being controlled by forces beyond his control. At least Mal—Draco wasn’t Voldemort. The very thought of which reminded him of the earlier argument that he’d had with Draco. Draco hadn’t asked him about it again. Harry dared to steal a look at Draco as they started down the staircase. His mother had said that he could trust him, had Draco told his mother about their fight?   
  
It was pretty clear that Draco was still angry or something, he hadn’t said anything but single word responses since Pomfrey had finally said they could go back to the dormitory. It was impossible to know what Draco thought about everything that was happening to him.   
  
There was a sudden jolt and Harry felt Draco’s arm reach out and grab him.   
  
“What--” Harry started to say but stopped as he felt the staircase start shifting under his feet. He gave a laugh and looked over at Draco, “All the years here and I still get tripped up by these bloody staircases.”  
  
Draco gave a smile and nodded. The stairs came to a stop at the second floor landing and they both stepped off quickly. Without a word, they both turned to the right, heading towards the corridor that would lead them back to the nearest entrance to the dormitory.   
  
Finally standing in front of the threshold to the eighth year dormitory, Harry took a deep breath and opened the door. There weren’t any passwords or riddles needed to enter, Harry didn’t know if it was because it was just temporary accommodations or because after the war and the battles fought that using such protections seemed juvenile to the eighteen-year olds who were living there.  
  
The common room was empty, fortunately, and they headed up the stairs to his room. Their room. He put his hand on the doorknob and glanced at Draco. “Ron and I had to ward the door to keep people out. I’ll add you to the wards.”  
  
“Don’t put yourself out, I’m sure sleeping outside the door would be close enough to keep the bond content.”  
  
“Hah ha,” Harry said as he shoved the door open, “We warded it just because it was easier. Too many unexpected visitors.”  
  
“Of course, your amorous fans,” Draco just stood in the doorway, “Shame your interests don’t lay in the direction of all the giggling girls that trail behind you.”  
  
“It only takes once waking up to a fourth year trying to sneak into your bed to make you want wards on the door.” Harry said with a scowl as he walked to look out the window, the same window he had used to try to fly to his freedom just a few days before.   
  
“Strangely, I haven’t had that problem this year.”   
  
Harry quirked a smile, “What about previous years?”  
  
“No comment,” Draco stepped into the room and looked at the two beds.   
  
“Oh, that one was Ron’s but whichever--” Harry broke off as Draco nodded and went over to the bed he’d pointed at and lay down on it, toeing off his shoes as he did so and letting them fall on the floor. The motion was so un-Malfoy like that Harry laughed out loud.   
  
Draco turned to look at him and Harry apologized, “I didn’t mean to laugh, I guess I always thought you were a neat freak. Having to everything in the precise place.”  
  
“Precision has its place, and fortunately the house elves make it so,” Draco motioned towards his shoes lying askew on the floor. “You take a nap and the house elves straighten up everything.”  
  
Harry winced, “Not here, I’m afraid.” Draco narrowed his eyes as Harry went on, “No house elves come in to make beds or the like. I pay them to do the laundry but as far as tidying, Ron and I did that.”  
  
“Please tell me you are joking.”  
  
“Nope. It was the only way to keep Hermione from going on and on about elves rights. Small price to pay to keep her from restarting S.P.E.W.”  
  
“You really are serious,” Draco sat up and looked around, “The Savior dusts and clean toilets?”  
  
“Don’t call me that,” Harry said quietly as he sat down on his bed. If there was one name that Harry hated more than all the rest it was savior. How could anyone call him that when so many had died? “I grew up having to clean and scrub floors. It isn’t any big deal and now I can use cleaning charms that make it no trouble.”   
  
Draco was stretched out on his side, propping his head up with his hand as he stared over at Harry. “What do you mean you’ve had to clean?”  
  
“It isn’t important,” Harry said, he restlessly grabbed his book bag and pulled out his potions book, “We should study. We’ve missed a lot of classes.”  
  
“What do you care about classes? You were ready to throw it all away last week,” Draco didn’t make any move to reach for his own books that were stacked on the trunk at the end of the bed.   
  
“That was because of the bond. I didn’t know what else to do.”  
  
“And now you do?” Draco said with a laugh “Don’t really see what the point of studying at all.”  
  
Harry looked over at Draco in surprise, “You don’t? You are top in the class with Hermione.”  
  
Draco sat up and gave a little shrug as he went to look out the window, “Before it was because my father demanded it. And, to be honest, I wanted to be better than everyone. This year, until now, it was different. I had to prove to everyone that I deserved the chance to come back. Now, what is the point? We are stuck together.”  
  
Harry was saved from responding by the door bursting open and Ron and Hermione were standing in the doorway.


	7. Roommates

Ron and Hermione stood frozen in the doorway. Ron looked wide-eyed at Draco sitting on his old bed. Draco sat up immediately, swinging his feet off the bed.  
  
Hermione still had her hand on the doorknob, and looked down at it as if seeing it for the first time. She looked over at Harry and Draco, “May we come in?”  
  
Ron’s head whipped towards Hermione at her question, and Harry felt just as shocked. She hadn’t asked permission to enter their room since term started. After living together for a year in a tent that had left no room for privacy, he hadn’t thought anything of her walking in. She certainly never had done so while entering with Ron beside her. Harry was stunned when he realized what was different now. After seven years of sharing a room with Ron, they weren’t anymore. Draco was his roommate now, and got to have a say in who entered.  
  
“Of course, come in. I mean, erm, if it is okay with you.” Harry tried not to grit his teeth as he turned to look at Draco.  
  
Draco shrugged, his lips pressed together in a thin line, “As if I have a choice.”  
  
Harry could see Draco’s hand resting next to his wand. He was so tense that Harry could feel the bond responding by tightening its grip. It occurred to him suddenly that Draco had been asleep when Hermione and Ron had visited in the hospital wing. He probably was afraid of how they were going to react.  
  
Standing up he crossed over and sat next to Draco, very conscious of Ron’s eyes following his movement. The move seemed more intimate than holding hands whilst in the Hospital Wing had been.  
  
“It is as much your room as it is mine,” Harry said, leaning in he whispered in Draco’s ear, “It will be okay, I promise.” He hoped that his words were true. Ron and Hermione had been shocked when he’d seen them in the hospital wing and they hadn’t had a chance to talk alone but he didn’t think they were angry at Draco. They were more likely still hurt that Harry hadn’t told them about the bond.  
  
“Don’t just stand gawking in the door, get in here and close the door before the whole dorm comes in,” Draco said with an edge to his voice.  
  
Ron looked at Harry and Harry nodded towards his bed. Gingerly, Ron and Hermione sat down on the edge of the bed. There was a long minute of silence during which Harry desperately tried to think of something to say but his mind was completely blank.  
  
Hoping for a normal tone to his voice he asked, “Did Pomfrey tell you that she released us?” Harry looked at Hermione, knowing that Ron would follow her lead.  
  
Hermione seemed to brace herself and nodded, “Ron’s mum said that you were doing better. They didn’t let us visit yesterday, said you needed to rest.”  
  
“Erm, we slept mostly. The bond takes a lot out of me--us,” said Harry with a self-conscious glance over at Draco who was staring at the floor. “How was Potions?”  
  
“Slughorn couldn’t really do much teaching. Everyone was talking about the article,” Ron said, he had stood up and was leaning against the wall as if wishing he could be anywhere else.  
  
“Article?” Draco looked up and stared at Ron, “What article?”  
  
“You haven’t seen it?” Hermione gave a glance at her bag and Harry knew she must have a copy of it.  
  
“No, Pomfrey didn’t give us the paper, let’s see it.” Harry grimaced, not really wanting to see what had been written but he knew from experience it was better to know what everyone else was reading.  
  
“Harry--”  
  
“Hand it over,” Ron’s voice was grim.  
  
She glared over at him, “They are still recovering--”  
  
“Hermione,” Harry held out his hand.  
  
“Fine, but I think it would be best...” She stopped and took a deep breath as all three of them looked at her, “Fine.” She dug into her bag and pulled out the Prophet. She shook her head as she held it up for them to see.  
  
The full top third of the front page was taken up by the single word headline: BONDED. The rest of the page showed was taken up with two photographs, one of Harry receiving the Order of Merlin and the other was Draco being led into the courtroom for his trial, in Ministry prisoner garb and his hands bound behind his back. The bastards. Harry stared at the paper in horror.  
  
They couldn’t have picked two photographs more likely to incite the Wizarding world into a frenzy. Draco in the photograph was walking into the courtroom, forced to shuffle his feet because of the restraints around his ankles. The photograph had been taken the first day, Harry knew, because the next day Draco’s lawyer had succeeded in his petition to have the restraints removed for the rest of the trial. In the photograph, Draco looked defeated and guilty.  
  
In sharp contrast, Harry’s photograph showed him in the formal dress robes that Molly Weasley and Fleur had purchased for him. The ceremony had been much more pomp and circumstance than Harry had expected and wanted, the Ministry top officials hoping that it would mark the end of the sadness that had weighed everyone down following the month of funerals and services to bury the dead.  
  
He didn’t have to look at Draco to know what his reaction was, the bond had tightened and his arm felt like it was on fire. “Put it away,” Harry hissed as he reached out and touched Draco’s thigh to make contact, to appease the bond. Draco flinched but didn’t move away and the burning ache dimmed but didn’t disappear with the contact. Draco had his eyes closed and his face was deathly pale.  
  
Harry reached over and grabbed Draco’s left hand and without thinking he slid both of their sleeves up and grasped Draco’s arm so that the two bondlines were in contact. He could feel Draco’s heartbeat racing.  
  
Hermione was saying something but he couldn’t be bothered to acknowledge her, Draco’s magic was pulling away from his and the lines were visibly flaring scarlet red. Sparks of silver were flying and Harry fought against the flickers of darkness that were tugging at him. Desperate to stay conscious, he leaned his whole body against him, to create the most amount of contact he could between them.  
  
“Draco, they don’t know anything, the photos don’t mean anything. That isn’t you. That isn’t the Draco Malfoy who didn’t kill Dumbledore, That isn’t the Draco Malfoy who didn’t hand us over to Voldemort. It isn’t you.” He kept on talking, whispering into Draco’s ear, desperate to reach Draco from wherever he had retreated.  
  
It felt like hours but at last the pain was easing. Looking down he saw that the bondlines had gone back to the dark red color. Exhausted he turned his head to see that Hermione and Ron were still in the room. Ron had gone white, his freckles standing out in stark contrast to his paleness. Hermione was gripping both his hands and it was clear that they were stunned by what had happened.  
  
“Should I get Madam Pomfrey?” she whispered.  
  
Harry shook his head, “Nothing she can do, I think we just need sleep.”  
  
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know--”  
  
“Not your fault, would you mind--” Harry felt Draco pulling away and tightened his grip, “Can we talk tomorrow?”  
  
“Sure, Harry.” Hermione and Ron both stood up and headed for the door. Ron still hadn’t said anything and Harry didn’t know what he could say. He closed his eyes and shifted so Draco’s head was against his shoulder. Draco still hadn’t said anything but Harry could tell by his breathing and the easing of pain that he was doing better.  
  
There was murmuring at the door and Harry looked over to see Ron casting towards the door. He was puzzled by what Ron could be doing until he realized, with a drop in his stomach, that Ron was resetting the wards on the door, taking away his own signature and Hermione’s.  
  
“We’ll knock next time, yeah?” Ron said gruffly as he put his arm around Hermione and they turned and left.  
  
Ron’s act seemed to be the final closing of a chapter in his life and Harry knew he should feel something more but he didn’t know what. All he could think about right now was sleep.  
  
“Draco?” He whispered softly but Draco was already asleep, his pulse slow and steady against Harry’s at last. With a sigh, he looked over at his own bed and down at Draco. He should shift his bed over so that they could sleep like they had in the hospital wing, but he was afraid to wake him up. Reaching down he swung Draco’s legs up onto the bed and then shifted so that they were both stretched out on the mattress. Promising himself that he would just rest for a few minutes and then move over to his own bed, he closed his eyes.  
  
OoooOOoOoO  
  
Consciousness came to him slowly, like veils drifting through the air, the first thing he realized was that the pain was gone, the burning ache in his arm had finally eased, the next was that he was starving, absolutely ravenous, the third, and Harry really didn’t know why he didn’t realize this first, was that there was somebody lying next to him in the bed. The complete memories of what had happened came flooding back to him with a crash but before he could figure out what he should do he felt Draco shift towards.  
  
“Pot--Harry.”  
  
He opened his eyes to see Draco Malfoy’s grey eyes a scant number of inches away.  
  
“I can explain,” he said as he sank back against the pillow. He didn’t know how much Draco would remember, but he knew he had to explain why he hadn’t slept in his own bed. Of all the stupid--  
  
“Don’t bother,” Draco said as Harry felt him lay his head back down next to his on the pillow. “I remember enough.”  
  
“You’re okay now, though?”  
  
“It is morning,” Draco said, by way of an answer, “We slept through all of yesterday and last night.” Harry glanced at the window and realized that Draco was right. How could they have slept nearly 24-hours?  
  
“I guess Pomfrey was right, it is going to take a while for us to get our strength back,” Harry was very conscious of every movement Draco was making next to him. The bed was far too narrow to not notice. Get a grip, he told his body, the last thing he needed was that kind of complication. Harry was grateful that Draco hadn’t leapt out of the bed immediately when he realized Harry had slept right next to him.  
  
“We should go to breakfast, if you’re hungry, that is,” Draco said, he was staring straight up at the ceiling.  
  
A shudder went through his body at the thought of facing the tables of students in the Great Hall, all those stares. “We can just go to the kitchens. The house elves will fix us breakfast down there.”  
  
Draco turned his head, “Really?”  
  
Harry grinned, “Really.”  
  
Draco shook his head, “It must be nice to be the Sav--”  
  
“Don’t. Just don’t,” Harry cut him off. “I’m starving and neither of us want to go eat in the Great Hall. So, we are going to the kitchens.”  
  
Draco nodded and Harry swung out of the bed and walked towards the window. He stretched his arms over his head to try and get out the kinks out of his body. He’d spent more time in bed in the last four days than he could remember but he still was exhausted.  
  
“Do you mind,” Draco’s voice came from behind him. He turned to see Draco cradling his own arm.  
  
“Sorry,” Harry said as he hastily came back towards Draco. He had become so used to the presence of the pain that he hadn’t even noticed when it had started again.  
  
“It’s worse, now.” Draco said, “That shouldn’t have done anything.”  
  
“I think what happened yesterday must have weakened the link again.” Harry agreed, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know that the paper --”  
  
“Why are you apologizing? You didn’t do anything.”  
  
Other than get Hermione to show them the headline, Harry thought. “I know it looked bad, the paper, but no one is going to remember that drivel. They are going to forget about it in a few days when something else happens.”  
  
“You really think so? You think everyone is going to forget that the Boy Wonder is bonded to a Death Eater?”  
  
“You’re not.”  
  
“I’m as good as--”  
  
“Stop it, this isn’t going to get us anywhere,” Harry growled. “I’m hungry.”  
  
Draco huffed and turned away. Harry watched as Draco started unbuttoning his robes.  
  
“What are you doing?”  
  
“I’m changing, obviously.” Draco said, looking over his shoulder at Harry.  
  
“You’re dressed already!”  
  
“In clothes I put on yesterday. I’m not about to walk through corridors in clothes that I slept in.”  
  
Harry shook his head and lay down on his bed to wait. The bond hurt as Draco moved around the room, but he ignored the sting. Draco pulled his shirt off and Harry watched dry mouthed as Draco’s back muscles rippled with the movement. It was the first time he’d seen him without his shirt on and the sight did not disappoint. When Draco turned to open his trunk Harry realized with a flash of horror that he was ogling his roommate. Shifting so he was staring up at the ceiling, his cheeks burned with embarrassment at the thought of Draco turning and catching Harry watching him.  
  
He had never paid any attention when Ron had gotten undressed in front of him or any of his roommates in the old Gryffindor dorm room. Ron had never said anything or showed any hesitancy even after Harry had admitted he was gay. Of course, Ron wasn’t Draco Malfoy. And it seemed to Harry that Draco was clearly bothered to be undressing in front of Harry. He kept his back to Harry the entire time, not that Harry was looking, much.  
  
At last Draco was done, he turned to face Harry. He looked down at Harry’s robes, “You are going to wear those? The robes you slept in yesterday?”  
  
“Yes,” Harry said shortly, “C’mon, I’m hungry.”  
  
OOoOOOoO  
  
The elves were hopping up and down with excitement to have Harry visiting them. They quickly ushered Harry and Draco to sit down at the table in the center of the room. Winky brought them two glasses of pumpkin juice on a silver platter to start. Harry reached for the one glass and then looked over at Draco, “Do you want tomato juice?”  
  
Draco looked at him startled, “What do you mean?”  
  
“You don’t like pumpkin juice, do you? You usually have tomato juice.” Harry flushed as he said the words, obviously there was only one way that he could know what Draco like to drink in the morning.  
  
“Stalk, much, Potter?”  
  
“Not anymore,” Harry lied with a shrug as Winky raced off to presumably retrieve the tomato juice. Watching Draco Malfoy had become more than a habit, even before sixth year. He could never stop himself from observing what the other student was doing. Hermione and Ron had both teased him about it, accusing him of being obsessed with Draco Malfoy, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself.  
  
Draco gave a snort and turned to look around the cavernous kitchen, “So, do you come down here often?”  
  
“I did before, fifth and sixth year, Fr--Fred and George Weasley told us the secret. They were always coming getting food.” Harry wondered when he would ever stop feeling a wince of pain when he said Fred’s name.  
  
Winky appeared with the tomato juice. She clicked her fingers and a full breakfast appeared in front of them. Draco reached for the kippers immediately as Harry thanked Winky for the food.  
  
“He said they were bonded, didn’t he? George Weasley, when he was here the other day.”  
  
“Yeah, they had a bloodbond. He offered to come back and talk to us, if we wanted.” Harry looked over at Draco before picking up his fork and starting to eat his eggs.  
  
“Do you want to do that?”  
  
“Talk to George?” Harry shrugged, “We could, I still don’t understand much of any of this.”  
  
From Draco’s derisive laugh Harry figured that he wasn’t surprised by Harry’s comment. They are silently for a few minutes. The bond was quiet right now, it hadn’t bothered them at all as they walked through the corridors. Harry was grateful that they managed to avoid seeing anyone, he knew their luck wouldn’t last much longer and after yesterday he was worried about what effect it would have on Draco.  
  
“Do you want to go walk by the lake after breakfast?” he asked.  
  
“You want to go for a walk?”  
  
“We’ve been cooped up in the castle for almost a week, I thought it would be good,” Harry said, and it would get them away from everyone, he thought to himself.  
  
“Pomfrey said we would have to check in at the hospital wing.”  
  
“She didn’t say when,” Harry said with a grin.  
  
“True,” Draco gave him one of his rare smiles before looking back down at his plate. He was picking at his food unlike Harry who was already on his second helping of eggs. Harry wished there was a way he could reassure Draco that everything would turn out alright, but he didn’t really believe it himself.  
  
OoOoOOOoo  
  
Coming up the stairs from the kitchen Harry realized that they weren’t going to be so lucky avoiding people. Dozens of students were pouring out of the open doors of the Great Hall. It was almost comical as the students skidded to a stop and were bumped by those behind them as they watched Harry and Draco walking towards them. All the excited Saturday morning chatter died and the crowd parted to allow them to pass through.  
  
Even without the bond Harry could feel the tension in Draco walking beside him. From experience he knew there was nothing they could do but just keep walking. Feeling what felt like a hundreds pairs of eyes watching them, they walked swiftly as possible to the front doors and with relief went down the stairs and turned towards the path to the lake.  
  
It wasn’t until the castle was well behind them that Draco stopped, “Does it always feel like that?”  
  
“What?”  
  
“That,” Draco motioned with his head towards the castle, “Having to deal with everyone staring at you.”  
  
“Yeah,” Harry shrugged, “You just have to walk through--”  
  
“How can you?” Draco reached down and picked up a rock and flung it far into the lake, “How can you just ignore--”  
  
“What choice did I ever have?” Harry felt a flash of anger towards Draco, the bloody git was responsible for many of the stares that Harry had to endure in the Great Hall in years past, and now he had the nerve to complain about it? “Still have your ‘Potter Stinks’ pin?”  
  
Draco whipped his head around to look at him. Harry stared at him, no matter how the bond was making them get along now, it didn’t change that they hadn’t always.  
  
Draco’s eyes were unreadable. He met Harry’s look for a full ten seconds before turning back to the lake. For an instant Harry wished the bond allowed him to know what Draco was thinking, but then he remembered what a truly bad idea it would be if Draco could know what Harry was thinking.  
  
Ignoring the tug of the bond he walked a few feet away and sat down on the grass. Fall came quickly this far north, the trees were already in full color and the wind had a raspy whisper as it rattled the oak leaves. The sound reminded Harry of all the walks he had taken with Hermione and Ron in previous years, walks to Hagrid’s hut, or down to Hogsmeade, and the forbidden forest, of how much he loved being at Hogwarts.  
  
He didn’t look as Draco came and sat down next to him. They sat together staring at the lake. Harry studying the lake’s smooth surface, waiting for the first flick of the Giant Squid’s tentacles. He thought he saw a ripple on the far side, but it could have been a fish or merman. Far down the path he could see other students but no one was venturing close to them. Cynically, he wondered how many were hiding cameras or omnioculars, trying to get a photograph of him with Draco.  
  
“For what it is worth, I’m sorry,” the words broke the silence even though they were whispered. Draco didn’t look at him as he said them, staring out at the lake.  
  
Harry shrugged, “It doesn’t matter.”  
  
“It does though, I did all those things to you.”  
  
“It isn’t like I didn’t give as good as I got,” Harry cursed his own need to defend Draco, “We feed off of each other.”  
  
Draco nodded, “I was jealous, you know, of you.”  
  
Harry gave a bitter laugh, “If you had a clue of what my life was really like you would know that there wasn’t any reason to be jealous.”  
  
“Read the articles written about you--”  
  
“That shite? The Prophet wouldn’t print the truth if I gave them a Pensieve with every minute of my life in it. They print what they think will sell the most papers.”  
  
“They had it right, yesterday,” Draco argued, “One word and two photographs and they summed it up pretty neatly.”  
  
Harry shook his head, “That is how some people might see it, who don’t know us, but I know that it isn’t like that, and Ron and Hermione--”  
  
“The hell they don’t, they could hardly look at me and Weasley was ready to hex me.”  
  
“No, they weren’t, they were just -- this is strange for all of us,” Harry said, “If anything they were mad at me for not telling them what was going on.”  
  
“And you, you were so horrified to be bonded with me that you left, you can’t tell me--”  
  
“It wasn’t because of you, it was because of the bond. It was the thought of being tied to someone again--” Harry broke off and stared out at the lake. The bond was tugging at him, not hurting, just putting pressure on his arm.  
  
“There you go again, who are you talking about?” Draco reached out and grabbed Harry, “Tell me what you meant by having someone in your head.”  
  
Harry felt the bile rising up in his throat and he fought to keep it down, “Voldemort. Voldemort was in my head, hell, a part of him was in me.”  
  
Draco’s hand fell away and he physically pulled back a few inches. Harry gave a bitter laugh and looked at the lake again, “Aren’t you glad you asked? Are you happy that you were right all those years ago when you told the Prophet I was crazy, that I had demented seizures? That was Voldemort, making that happen,” he pulled back his fringe to show his scar. “This wasn’t just a fucking scar, it was the key that gave Voldemort free rein to everything in my mind.  
  
“It isn’t that I’m bonded to you, I just want to be free. I didn’t want to be tied to anyone ever again. Instead, though, not even six months after getting rid of him in my head, I’m bonded for life to someone else,”  
  
He waved his arm at Draco, the bond was bright red and painfully hot again, but he didn’t care. “How do you think it felt, having Voldemort inside my head? I could feel his anger, his madness, I could see his bloody snake, hell, I could even see you sometimes, I could see what they made you do.”  
  
Draco reeled away from Harry, shaking his head in denial before standing up and running, he didn’t even make it thirty feet before he fell to his knees, retching. Harry felt the bond pulling him and as much as he loathed to, he knew he had to reach Draco. Cursing the bond, he forced himself to stand up and headed towards Draco.  
  
Draco met him halfway, shaking and pale, he reached for Harry’s arm and pushed his sleeve up so he could unite the bondlines. They stood together, waiting, as the connection calmed down. Harry knew he was leaning against Draco but didn’t pull away as he slowly felt the strength of their magic flowing together again.  
  
“We really need to stop that from happening,” Harry said shakily, when he finally felt strong enough to talk.  
  
“You think?” Draco said, with just a trace of his old Malfoy snark.  
  
“Are you alright?” Harry asked, “I shouldn’t have-”  
  
“For all that is Slytherin, don’t you dare apologize, again,” Draco said the words but there was no heat behind them. “I can’t--I can’t think about that right now.”  
  
Harry nodded, they were still standing so close that his hair brushed against Draco’s jaw. He knew it probably looked like they were hugging from a distance, but couldn’t summon the energy to care. He knew he had to explain himself though, so that Draco wouldn’t think the worst of him, “I didn’t mean to...to compare this to what happened before, but that is why this is so hard for me.”  
  
Draco didn’t say anything, and Harry would have been worried if it wasn’t for the bond reassuring him that everything was alright.  
  
“Let’s go back,” Draco said, at last, “Else, I’m going to fall asleep right here.”  
  
Harry gave a laugh and together they started back towards the castle. In the distance he could see a Quidditch team was out on the pitch, practicing.  
  
“Ravenclaw,” Draco said.  
  
“Their seeker won’t have a chance against Ginny next week.” Harry agreed, glad to have something to talk about other than the bond. It was strange to think that everything else in the school was going on as it always did, no matter what was happening to him and Draco.  
  
“True, but your keeper is an absolute pillock.”  
  
Harry laughed, he was glad that Ginny was the team captain and was the one having to try to shape the fourth year keeper into some kind of form for the game.  
  
They were getting closer to the castle and Harry was relieved that the weakness and tiredness was fading. Maybe their bodies really were getting used to the bond. Draco had tensed every time a group of students had passed them. Fortunately, no one said anything, just allowed them to pass with wide-eyed wonder.  
  
They were on the steps when Hermione came through the front doors and motioned to them.  
  
“What’s wrong?” Harry asked immediately, seeing Hermione’s expression.  
  
“McGonagall is looking for you both,” Hermione said, “Kingsley is here.”  
  
“Kingsley Shacklebolt?” Draco asked, looked from Hermione to Harry. “Since when do you call the Minister of Magic by his first name?”  
  
“He was in the Order, told us to call him that,” Harry said, “Do we have to go? We are beat—“  
  
“Harry.”  
  
Harry rolled his eyes at Hermione’s tone, “You are starting to sound more and more like Molly Weasley.”  
  
Hermione went red in the face but didn’t stand down, “Nice, Harry, really nice, but that doesn’t change the fact that the most important Wizard in Britain is here to see you.” Hermione reached into her robe pocket and pulled out two potion bottles. “Madam Pomfrey gave this to me for you. It’s a pep-up potion.”  
  
“She just gave it to you?” Draco asked, looking dubiously at the blue bottles.  
  
“I went to her and asked,” Hermione admitted. “I thought it could help you with the effects of the bond.”  
  
Draco took one of the bottles and pulling the cap off he took a whiff and looked suspiciously at Hermione, “There’s hellebore in here.”  
  
A flush of pink rose in Hermione’s cheeks as she nodded. Harry looked down at the bottle that he was holding, “What’s wrong with hellebore?”  
  
Draco rolled his eyes, “Which just reminds us all why you needed tutoring in Potions, Potter. Hellebore is the main ingredient in calming potions.”  
  
“I told Pomfrey about what happened yesterday,” Hermione said with an edge to her voice as if daring Harry to tell her that she shouldn’t have said anything.  
  
“Hermione--”  
  
“Forget it,” Draco lifted the bottle and took a couple of swallows, “Just drink it.”  
  
Harry looked from Hermione to Draco in disbelief, “You aren’t mad that she--”  
  
“Yes, I am mad, but I’m also too tired to fight about it and the Minister of Magic is here and taking some chemical courage seems like a much better option than pissing off the bond again,” Draco looked at Harry with a shrug.  
  
Harry looked down at the bottle and reluctantly took the stopper out and took two large swallows. “We aren’t done talking about this,” he said looking at Hermione, even as he said the words he could feel the warmth of the potion spreading through his stomach. He did feel better, but didn’t like that she tried to trick him into taking the potion, she knew how much he hated calming potions.  
  
“Let’s see what Kingsley has to say,” he turned to look at Draco to make sure he agreed. Hermione walked with them as they headed towards the headmistress’s office. She looked over at Harry.  
  
“You look better,” she said softly, “How is it going with…” she motioned towards Draco who was walking on the other side of Harry.  
  
Harry looked at her and laughed, “He’s right here, Hermione. He can hear everything that we say.”  
  
“Even when you whisper,” Draco agreed, looking over Harry’s head at Hermione.

“It’s going as well as can be expected, Hermione.” Harry said as they slowed to a stop in front of the entrance to McGonagall’s office. “I’ll—we’ll find you later and I’ll let you know what happened, okay?”  
  
Hermione nodded and bit her lip as Harry gave the password, Burmilla, to the gargoyle that guarded the entrance. The door swung open revealing the spiral staircase and Harry and Draco entered.


	8. Strained Relations

Kingsley Shacklebolt was sitting on the edge of McGonagall’s desk, laughing at whatever she had just said as Harry and Draco appeared in the doorway. McGonagall stood up and motioned for them to enter. “Come in, boys, and sit down. The minister is here to see you.”

Harry was glad that Draco had taken the calming potion as they headed for the two chairs in front of McGonagall’s desk. The chairs were several feet apart and Draco looked at him questioningly. Harry shrugged and just pushed the chairs together. Draco sat down in the right chair and Harry sat down next to him, putting his arm on the armrest near Draco’s.

“Harry, Draco.” Kingsley nodded to them, “I understand you’ve had an eventful week.”

“Yes, sir, you could say so,” Harry responded for the both of them. “It wasn’t, erm, planned though.” Draco snorted at that, but didn’t say anything.

Kingsley nodded seriously, “I sure it wasn’t, but you can imagine my concern when the aurors came back and reported what they had seen.”

“And then they went straight to the Prophet,”

“Yes, and they are both on desk-duty as a result,” Kingsley agreed soberly. “There will be an investigation, but it is fairly clear where the leak occurred.”

“It didn’t come from Hogwarts,” McGonagall said, with a stern look at Kingsley, “As soon as we realized what had happened no one entered the Hospital Wing but their family.”

“Yes, but there is no use crying over a spilt cauldron,” Kingsley turned back to look at Harry, “Regardless of how it happened, the newspapers have gotten ahold of it and we have to deal with the ramifications.”

“What ramifications?” Draco said, “It can’t be undone, if that is what you are implying.”

“I mean that there has been a rather large reaction to the news that you have bonded,” Kingsley said soberly, “Thousands of owls and Howlers, have been sent since the Prophet broke the news yesterday.”

“We haven’t — they haven’t come through,” Harry said with a puzzle glance at McGonagall, “Not that I mind.”

“No, when I received word of the Prophet had learned of your bonding, I fortified the wards that were already in place to screen your owls, and added Draco into the same protection.”

Draco looked displeased at the news that his owls were being monitored. “You’re screening—”

“4,362 Howlers were sent in the first twenty-four hours,” Kingsley said dryly, “I don’t really think there is any question that the protection was needed. We have had aurors working around the clock to detect actual threats from the general objections being voiced.”

“It is nobody’s business—” Harry began.

“Of course it isn’t, but as you are well aware it doesn’t stop wizards and witches from believing that you are, for lack of a better term, a public persona.”

“What else?” Draco asked looking at Kingsley, “You didn’t come to just tell us about the Howlers.”

“No, I came to see if there is anything that Harry - or you - need to help you adjust to the bond.”

“You aren’t here because he is bonded to a Death Eater?” Draco’s voice was calm but it was obvious that he didn’t believe the Minister.

“I would have come regardless of whom Harry had bonded to,” Kingsley said, not seeming surprised at the question, “Am I pleased that you two are bondmates? No, not really, and I certainly would have preferred it been done in a different manner but it doesn’t change the fact that it has happened and all we can do now is make sure that you have a safe environment in which to become fully bonded.”

“What the minister is hinting at,” McGonagall said. “Is he would like to offer you a location for you two to live for as long as it takes for the situation to quiet—”

“Why can’t we can’t stay here?” Harry asked as he looked to Draco for confirmation. Draco nodded in agreement. “We don’t want to go anywhere.”

“I thought it might be easier, and safer, for you to be completely away from Hogwarts, give you a chance to be alone.”

“Except we wouldn’t be alone, would we?” Harry said with certainty, “You would have aurors guarding us.”

“We would have aurors protecting you,” Kingsley countered, “to make sure that no one breaks through the protections. And they would leave you with enough privacy to...make sure that your bonding goes unhindered.”

“No, I’m not going to sit in a house with aurors that hate me and think I should be in Azkaban,” Draco said, shaking his head. “I’d rather take my chances here.”

Harry nodded in agreement. “I don’t see why suddenly you don’t think that Hogwarts isn’t safe, I was here for six years with Voldemort after me and no one tried to put me in a safe house.”

“Actually, you’ll find that the Ministry petitioned Dumbledore again and again to have you removed from Hogwarts for your protection. He always refused,” McGonagall said, with a glance over her shoulder at Dumbledore’s empty portrait. “The circumstances this time are a little different, which is why I gave permission for the Minister to make his offer.”

“What is so different now?”

“Bonding is a very personal matter, one that usually takes place in slow stages over time. You two put the cart before the thestral.” McGonagall put her hands up as they both started to protest, “Yes, I know you didn’t plan it. Regardless, critical phases were missed and now you must make a concerted effort to ensure that the rest of your bonding goes smoothly. Having to do this under the eyes of all your classmates will make it more difficult.”

“I can handle it,” Harry said, “I always have.”

“Yes, but now it isn’t just you.” McGonagall looked at Draco. “It is the both of you and quite frankly given your history I don’t think you need any other complications.”

“I want to stay here,” Draco said, lifting his chin defiantly as he looked from Kingsley to McGonagall. “We both do.”

“I can’t say that I’m surprised, but if you change your mind at any time you just have to know Headmistress McGonagall know and we will take care of it.”

Harry nodded and stood up, expecting that the meeting was over but Kingsley motioned him to sit down again. “The other issue is Draco’s parole.”

Harry sank back down in the seat as Kingsley went on, “Draco, as you know, you were sentenced to two years of parole plus mandatory community service.”

Despite the calming potion they had both taken Harry could feel the bond tightening as Draco sat stiffly listening to Kingsley. He nudged over so that their arms were again touching.

“What about my sentence?”

“The Wizengamot Council met in an emergency session and voted that your sentence be commuted entirely and—”

“No, absolutely not.” Draco shook his head vigorously as he jumped out of his seat and Harry quickly got up with him. “I’m doing the parole and the community service—”

“But, surely you don’t want to—”

“I’m going to serve every hour of the community service and every day of the parole,” Draco said, his grey eyes flashing with anger. “I’m not going to let anyone say that I did this to get out of my sentence.”

“Draco, no one with an understanding of bonds would think that of you."

“And for the thousands who don’t understand?” Draco said with a bitter scoff, “How many Howlers were sent? 4,000? I’m guessing that is just a few of those who don’t understand and I’m not going to give them any cause to think that I am trying to not do the time.”

“But Draco, if you do it then Harry has to do it as well,” McGonagall said.

“I’ll do it, too,” Harry added with a shrug, “It won’t be a problem.”

Draco looked surprised but stood next to Harry and stared at Kingsley who had yet to say anything.

“How much community service time do you have left?”

“Just over 100 hours, he has already served over half whilst working on the reconstruction work at Hogwarts this summer,” McGonagall said promptly.

“We’ll do it together,” Harry said firmly. “Draco was already going to get points for tutoring me in Potions, that will still count, right? And I’m going to need help in Arithmancy if I’m going to have to take that class with him.”

“Well, it seems that they are set on continuing as they are, Minister,” McGonagall said with a nod, “As I suspected.”

“And you were right, as always, Minerva.” Kingsley stood up and shook both of their hands, “Please, don’t hesitate to contact me if you change your mind. We will keep monitoring the owls, for the safety of everyone.”

“That’s fine. Draco can send you a list of owls he wants to receive. Like I did,” Harry looked at Draco, “That way only those people get through, I just let the owls from the Weasleys in.”

Draco nodded. “Just my mother’s letters, sir.”

“No, one else?” Harry looked at him in surprise. Draco glanced out the window and shook his head.

Harry wanted to ask Draco why but knew that now was not the time, he looked at McGonagall. “Okay, is there anything else?”

“I have your revised class schedule,” McGonagall handed the scroll to Draco, “Study it, you’ll notice that I have dropped Magical Creatures and Defense. Under the circumstances it seemed for the best. Those classes have been replaced by an Independent Study course, on Firebonds. You’ll be expected to research the history of the bonds. In addition, George Weasley has offered to come once a week and coach you.

OOOOOOO

The hallway was crowded as they made their way back to the tower. Everyone stared at them but let them pass without comment. Harry knew from experience that it wouldn’t last, soon the more bold students to start coming up to ask questions or simply to jeer at them.

Neville, Hermione and Ron were talking by the fireplace as Harry and Draco entered the common room. Draco made a move to head straight towards the staircase and Harry had to put a hand on his arm to stop him. “I need to talk to them,” he said as quietly as he could.

Draco looked like he was going to protest but nodded instead and they went towards the others.

“How did it go? What did Kingsley want?” Hermione asked, reaching out to touch Harry’s arm before stopping and pulling her hand back awkwardly.

“Just wanted to let us know that we could go to some Ministry safe house.” Harry shook his head as Ron and Hermione looked alarmed. “I refused.”

“So you’re staying?” Ron said with relief, “Both of you?”

Draco snorted, “Right, I’m going and he’s staying.”

Ron went bright red. “Listen, Malfoy—”

“Stop, don’t even start, Ron. You either, Draco.” Harry put his hand up to push Ron back, “We’re both staying and right now we have to go upstairs.” He groaned as he realized what it sounded like but he was falling over tired and wanted nothing more than lay down.

“We’ll talk later, Harry.” Hermione agreed quickly, “I’m glad you are staying.”

Although it was still early afternoon, Harry was exhausted. He closed their door with relief and sighed, “All I want to do is sleep until supper.”

“Are we going to eat in the Great Hall tonight?” Draco asked as he sat down on his bed to take off his boots.

“Suppose so, we can decide later.” Harry unbuttoned his robes and threw them on his bed. The bond was aching again, he realized, with an annoyed grimace. They hadn’t been more than a foot or two apart for hours, what more could it want?

He looked over at Draco who had turned his back to Harry as he took off his own robes. Harry still wished he had a better idea of what Draco thought about the bonding. He gave a snort, he wish he knew what he was thinking, it had all changed so fast he still couldn’t fathom that he was bonded to Malfoy.

“Potter, thanks for agreeing to not let them dismiss my sentence.” The words were stilted but Harry was still surprised that Draco has actually thanked him.

“No, problem. I get why you would want to finish your sentence.” Harry yawned as he answered and with relief he stretched out on his bed.

“Can we—” Draco was standing next to his bed and Harry opened his eyes to look at him, “Do you think we can move the beds together, like in the Hospital Wing?”

Harry sucked in air as his body reacted to the suggestion, the memory of waking up next to Draco this morning still hadn’t faded, “Sure, we can do that.” Without another word he got off the bed and they pushed the beds together. To his annoyance, the two beds were different heights.

“Doesn’t matter, the bond won’t care.” Draco said as he got into his bed that was slightly higher. Harry lay down and it was clear that Draco was right, the pain disappeared with a whisper and he was asleep before he could respond.

OOOOO

Harry was shocked awake by the sound of Pomfrey’s voice, he sat bolt upright in bed looking frantically around the room. To his relief, the sound was coming from a rabbit patronus in the corner of the room. “Gentlemen, you are overdue in the Hospital Wing. You will report to me immediately.”

Falling back against his pillow, Harry laughed in relief when he realized the Healer hadn’t somehow entered their room. He rubbed his face with his hands, trying to chase away the remains of the nap. Belatedly, he looked to over to see if Draco was awake. His back was turned away from Harry.

“Draco?”

There was a hesitation and then Draco turned and faced Harry. Only a few inches separated them, he was so close that Harry could see the lines left on Draco’s face by his pillow. “Did you hear?”

Draco nodded. “Can’t put it off any longer. We can stop there and go to supper afterwards.”

“You feel alright?” Harry had to fight the urge to reach over and brush Draco’s hair off of his face. Sleeping so close together was far intimate than anything Harry had experienced. Draco was right next to him. He could see the ring of blue surrounding Draco’s grey eyes, each lash magnified to frame those eyes, the faintest hint of stubble on his jaw.

“Potter?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re staring.”

Harry felt his cheeks burn with embarrassment as he flipped onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. “Sorry, I was just thinking.”

“What about?”

“Oh, just wondering how long we’ll have to sleep together — I mean, sleep like this together. You know, with the beds pushed together.” Harry cursed as he said ‘together’ again. “Next to each other.”

“Bother you, does it?”

“Just not used to it.” Harry couldn’t admit to the fact that he liked waking up next to Draco. He still didn’t know how Draco really felt about Harry being gay. He didn’t even know if Draco was gay or straight. What would Draco do if he knew that Harry actually _liked_ him? He would either mock Harry endlessly or get angry, and if he did, what could they do? They had to be near each other, he didn’t want Draco to feel uncomfortable knowing that Harry liked him like that. Not for the first time Harry cursed the fact of all the blokes in the school he was drawn to Draco.

“If you grind your teeth together any harder you are going to need false teeth before you’re twenty,” Draco drawled as he sat up in bed.

Harry forced himself to laugh and climbed out of bed. He looked down at his clothes, he’d slept in them again and the wrinkles had wrinkles now. He glanced over at Draco, “I could really use a shower.”

Draco rolled his eyes, “Are you asking permission?”

“No, I just thought—” Harry flushed with embarrassment. “I just thought I should tell you. Do you think the bond—”

“Go take your shower. If it means you are going to put on clean clothes I can put up with the bond.”

OOoOoOOoOO

It was a full hour before they appeared in the Hospital Wing, much to the annoyance of Madam Pomfrey who huffed as she started casting the now familiar scans on them. When she tested how far they could be apart she simply raised her eyebrow when it became obvious that they had to be closer together now than they had the day before.

“What happened? You boys are clearly worse off. The bond stream is visibly weaker than it should be—”

“No. It’s nothing, being out and walking around. It tires us out, but we just need to do less.” Harry protested. He loathed being in the Hospital Wing. Draco nodded in agreement.

“I suppose that could account for the change. You haven’t been arguing?”

They both shook their heads and Pomfrey looked at them dubiously. “Well, I will expect you to come by each day at this time. Do not miss a day. If you show signs of further weakening we will have to reconsider how to proceed.”

It was with relief fifteen minutes later that they walked away from the Hospital Wing. Harry rubbed his hand over the mark on his arm that was thankfully calm for the moment.

“Supper?”

Draco gave a shrug and they made their way towards the Great Hall. As they got closer Harry could hear the familiar excited chatter that confirmed that most the students were already inside. They slowed to a halt a few yards from the entrance, Harry knew from experience what would happen as soon as they walked through the doors.

“We could eat in the kitchens again.”

Draco looked at him and seemed to straighten up just a little taller, “Have to do it sometime.”

Harry nodded and Draco started to walk towards the door but Harry grabbed his arm. “Wait. Are we going to sit at Slytherin or Gryffindor?”

Draco swallowed hard and looked towards the door. “Where do you want to sit?”

“We can sit at Slytherin, it’s okay—”

“No, we’ll sit at Gryffindor.” Draco adjusted the collar of his robes and tugged on its sleeves.

“We don’t have—”

“You know as well as I do that since the beginning of term most of the Slytherins consider me a pariah, a taint to their efforts to redeem _their_ house. I can only assume that it will be worse since I violated the Golden One.”

Harry snorted at the use of the word violated, “Right, by that account we should sit at Slytherin because if they want redeem their house what better way than through me.”

“We are sitting at Gryffindor, Potter.” Draco turned on his heel and headed into the Great Hall. Harry cursed and hurried to catch up to him, together they walked through the enormous double doors and into the Great Hall.

They made it five paces into the room before the room fell silent. All eyes were on them as they made their way to the Gryffindor table. Fortunately, Ron and Hermione were already there, Harry looked at the bench opposite of them where he usually sat. There was only room for one person. Before he could say anything, Neville gave Seamus a shove, “Budge down.” Everyone on the bench shifted to make enough room for them.

Harry and Draco climbed onto the benches. Harry sitting on Draco’s left so that the bonds could be close. Whereas, the Gryffindors was silent as they sat down, around the room he could hear the excited whispers as the other students got over their surprise and started talking. Draco’s body was tense and Harry was grateful that there wasn’t much space on the bench as he let his own arm brush against Draco’s, allowing the bonds to touch without being obvious.

Hermione broke the silence by handing Harry the platter of roast pork, “Here you go,” she said with a smile. Harry nodded gratefully as he took the platter and put some on his plate. He offered it to Draco who shook his head and set it down without taking any.

When he also passed on the squash and potatoes, Harry looked at him. “You have to eat something.”

“Only if you want to watch me get sick right here at the table,” Draco said tersely as he held his glass of water.

Harry sighed and set down his fork, “Should we leave?”

“Just eat your supper,” he said as he reached for a roll. Harry looked back down at his plate. He was starving, he didn’t understand why Draco wasn’t it.

“Harry, are you and Draco going to be in class tomorrow? I have notes from last week’s classes if you want to start catching up.” Hermione said in a pointed effort to get those around them talking again. Harry looked at her gratefully.

“I think so,” he replied with a glance at Draco. “McGonagall switched our schedules around. I haven’t looked at it yet.”

“Doesn’t he talk?” Ginny was sitting on the other side of Hermione and she leaned forward to look at them better. “Welcome to Gryffindor, Malfoy,” she said with just a touch of malevolence in her voice.

Draco muttered under his breath that fortunately Ginny couldn’t hear, Harry just shook his head at her. “Call him Draco, Ginny. I know this is all going to take some adjusting so just — ease up.”

“You really pulled a fast one, Harry,” Seamus’ voice carried easily down the table. “When you told us you were gay, that was one thing. I didn’t think that you end up with someone like him.”

“My being gay doesn’t have anything to do with it, it just happened. We fought and we bonded.” Harry looked at Ron, “I thought you were going to tell them that is how it happened.”

Ron nodded, “I did, but, Harry, you know no one’s going to believe it. Especially those that already knew that you’re bent.”  
“What does being gay have to do with it? Draco isn’t—” Harry cut-off as Neville, Seamus and Dean laughed.

Draco was staring at the plate, his cheeks were two bright patches of red, Harry looked around, “What’s so funny?”

“Draco has to be gay. Firebonds don’t form between people who aren’t sexually compatible,” Hermione said, her voice soft as she looked at Harry. “You really need to learn more—”

“You’re gay?” Harry hissed at Draco, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Want to shout it a little louder?”

“What difference does it make how loud I am? Apparently everyone knows already!” Harry was furious. Here he had been worrying about Draco not liking he was gay and the whole time the git hadn’t bothered to tell Harry that he was gay, too.

“What does it matter? It isn’t like we would ever—”

“It matters!” Harry felt the bond burning but didn’t care, “You know it matters.”

“Harry—”

“Hermione, don’t lecture, not now. This is between me and Draco.” Harry was still waiting for Draco to respond but he was staring down at the table, refusing to look at Harry.

“Maybe you should do it in your room, though?” she asked as Harry looked at her confused. She nodded with her head to the rest of the room. All eyes were focused on the Gryffindor table.

“Come on, Potter.” Draco had stood up and was now looking down at Harry. Whatever they had to say to each other clearly couldn’t be done here. Harry cursed as he climbed over the bench and a bout of dizziness struck. Draco grabbed him to keep him from falling over. Draco was pale and the bondline was burning red hot.

He could feel his magic draining and realized what was going to happen next, as he saw Draco sway and back away. He didn’t want the entire school witnessing the kind of breakdown that had happened just a few hours ago. Without bothering to acknowledge his friends Harry grabbed Draco and pulled him towards the door.

Their footsteps echoed off the stone walls as Harry all but pulled Draco down the front steps and outside. His ears were ringing and his hands were growing numb as he shoved Draco against the castle walls.

“Harry, don’t”

“Shut up,” he hissed and grabbed Draco’s left arm holding it up against the wall, his sleeve falling back to reveal the mark and pushed his own arm against Draco’s to unite the marks. Draco struggled against him and Harry used his whole body to force him to hold still. There was plenty he wanted to say to Malfoy but first the bloody bond had to be calmed down. He glared at Draco, their faces just a few inches apart until Draco turned his head. Harry could feel the strain on his magic lessen, he looked up at their arms and the red lines had dulled once again and the burning pain had eased.

He pushed away from Draco and leaned against the wall, closing his eyes he shook his head. “When were you going to tell me?”

“It wasn’t important.” Draco’s voice sounded defeated and Harry turned to look at him.

“Not important? How could it not be important?”

“Because, I don’t know, maybe the fact that we are bonded for life seemed a little more important?”

“Did you know that if you bonded with me that I had to be gay — before I told you, I mean? You read the books.”

“I was reading to find out how to avoid the bond. I didn’t read the chapters that talked about bonding sex, it wasn’t relevant.”

“Wasn’t relevant?” Harry couldn’t stop his bitter laugh, “Right, because what is relevant about knowing a little detail like that? I know it is too much to expect you to like me, Malfoy but I do think it—”

“ _Like_ you? What are we? Six years old?” Draco straightened up and adjusted the sleeves of his robes and collar. “I knew there was no way we would be sexual partners, so, as I said, it wasn’t relevant.”

“It would have been nice to know that you were gay before I learned it in front of half the school, bondmate.” Harry pointed back towards the entrance, “Given how gossip travels through this school there is no doubt that everyone thinks that we are having sex.”

“It bugs you that much? Get over yourself.” Draco stepped away, “I want to go back to our room, do you mind?”

Harry did mind. He was tired of not being able to say what he needed to Draco for fear that he would react badly. “We didn’t get any supper.”

“Then have your elf bring you some food. I’m not going back in there.” Draco turned and headed down the steps and Harry was forced to follow.

“Where are you going?”

“Around to the courtyard entrance. If we go in that way, everyone will be waiting for us.”

Harry wanted to argue, but it was pointless. He didn’t want to have to walk through the crowds either and to disagree with Draco just because it was his idea would probably start the bond up again. They didn’t bother to talk as they went through the corridors.

The common room was empty when they made it back to the tower. Draco opened the door to their room and Harry crossed over and went to sit on his bed. Draco had no choice but to sit next to him.

“I’m still hungry.”

“And this is my fault?”

Before Harry could think of a comeback there was a knock on the door. “Who is it?” He called out, at the same time that Draco shouted, “Go away.”

There was a pause and Hermione’s voice came through the door, “It’s me, Harry.”

Harry crossed over to open the door, gritting his teeth as the bond protested the separation of just a few feet. Hermione stood waiting in the hall, a covered plate in her hand.

“I didn’t want to interrupt. I thought that you might still be hungry.” She handed the plate to Harry, “There’s enough for both of you,” she added hastily as Draco came to stand next to Harry.

“Thanks, Hermione.”

“Let me know if you need anything.” Hermione gave a small smile as she turned and walked away. Harry sighed as she went, if it had been a week ago she would have stayed and they would have talked and laughed as he ate. Now, there was just Draco Malfoy and Harry had no idea where to even start to understand him.

“Are you going to stand there all night?”

Harry shook his head and closed the door. Turning he walked back to the bed and sat down. The smell of roasted vegetables and meat filled the room as he lifted the cover. Harry smiled as he saw two sets of silverware float out from underneath the cover. Hermione had thought of everything.

He grabbed one of the forks and motioned the other to Draco who batted it away. “You have to eat, Draco.”

“I’m supposed to eat sitting on your bed?”

“We ate in our beds in the Hospital Wing,” Harry said around the mouthful he had just put in his mouth.

“But that is—” Draco broke off and shook his head, “What’s the use?”

“None.” Harry was still pissed at Draco and he wasn’t about to get into an argument about how Purebloods didn’t eat sitting on beds. “Eat.”

“I don’t want to, Potter.”

Harry threw a roll at him that he caught with a look of disbelief. “Eat. If you get weak because you’re too proud to feed yourself then _I_ will pay the price because you will sap all my strength like a fucking vampire.”

“I knew it.” Draco dropped the roll as if it was poisoned, “You think you are so bloody powerful. Fucking Harry Potter. Slayer of the Dark Lord. You can’t believe you’re bonded to someone as weak as me.”

Harry saw red as he leapt up and shoved Draco, “You are unbelievable. You don’t know the first thing about me.”

Draco resisted as Harry continued to shove Draco until he was up against the window, “For your information, Malfoy, that was not what I meant. The same thing would happen to you if I was the one not eating. I don’t think I’m stronger than you. I don’t think—”

Whatever he was going to say was cut-off as pain streaked up his arm and across his chest. He was vaguely aware of Draco reaching out for him then there was nothing.

OOoOoOOOoOo

The sound of people whispering nearby is the first thing Harry heard as he woke up. Lying perfectly still he tried to figure out the voices. McGonagall and Pomfrey. Bloody great. He didn’t bother to open his eyes, as he tried to hear what they were saying but they were too far away.

“You’re awake.” Draco’s voice came from right next to Harry’s ear. Turning his head he looked to see Draco lying next to him. Of course, he was, Harry thought with a sigh. Where else could Draco be but by his side.

“What happened—”

“I see you are back with us,” Professor McGonagall’s voice carried across the room. Harry reluctantly turned towards her voice. She was standing with Pomfrey in front of a large fireplace that took up half the wall in the small room. Harry looked around in stunned confusion. The walls of the room were wooden boards as was the floor. Two small paned windows were on the other side of the room, with green curtains covering them. There was a cupboard in the corner and a rug on the floor. The room looked nothing like Hogwarts.

“Where are we?”

“This, Mr. Potter, is your new home.”


	9. Gameskeeper's Cottage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a beast of a chapter that took months to conquer, thank you, everyone, for waiting so patiently. A tremendous shout-out is due to Omi-Ohmy for her invaluable help in making this chapter ten-times better than the original I gave her. 
> 
> Regarding content, I know I originally said that most of the 'M' content would be off-stage (ie, lime, not lemon), Draco and Harry were not agreeable to this arrangement. It isn't OTT, but it is definitely present in this chapter.

"My _what_?" Harry looked at McGonagall in horror. "Is this the Ministry house? We said —"

He felt Draco's hand tighten its grip on his arm. "Let her explain," Draco said quietly, leaning so close that Harry could smell the fragrance of his soap.

"It became clear today that in order for you and Draco to adjust to the bond, you must spend time alone without the pressure of the attending classes and having to interact with your fellow students." She held up a hand as Harry tried to interrupt. "This is the original gamekeeper's accommodations at Hogwarts. When Hagrid became gameskeeper, he needed a bigger house. This one is concealed under a Fidelius charm to prevent students making use of it."

Harry nodded; Hogwarts had so many secrets, it no longer surprised him when he learned of a new one. "Where are we? I mean, where on the grounds?"

"Just past the Quidditch pitch."

"But we can have visitors? Right?" Harry looked from McGonagall to Pomfrey for confirmation.

"Not at first, I'm afraid. No one other than George Weasley and myself," Madam Pomfrey said with a shake of her head. "I observed that while you two were isolated in the Hospital Wing, the bond initially gave you very little trouble. However, as soon as you started interacting with others, the bond reacted. According to what little research is available on your rather unusual bonding, we believe that the bond is demanding that you two spend time together alone."

"But, Ron and Hermione—" Harry stopped as Draco snorted and said something under his breath that Harry couldn't hear.

"Not for the time being." McGonagall said firmly. "Madam Pomfrey will come once a day to check on your health. For your protection, a charm has been placed on you both so that she will be notified immediately if either or both of you lose consciousness."

"That isn't—"

"Harry, you and Draco were found unconscious in your room by a house elf who had come to gather your laundry. It is very much necessary. Fortunately, we had already begun to have the cottage prepared. Madam Pomfrey notified me of the need after your visit with her earlier."

Harry swallowed hard. He tried to think of an argument but couldn't, he _didn't_ want to be in the castle with everyone watching them. As he wiped his face with his hands, stalling as he tried to figure out what he should say, he felt Draco shift next to him and he realized that Draco hadn't said anything about their new situation. He turned to look at him. "Are you okay with this?"

Draco hesitated but nodded in agreement, "If you are, we can't keep having those...attacks." He looked down where his arm was resting next to Draco's, the bondlines showing a dark red against the sheets but wasn't hurting at the moment. He closed his eyes at the futility of trying to fight the situation. "What about classes?"

"Class notes will be sent each night, but Harry." McGonagall's expression softened. "Your studies are not that important right now, you both need to accept your bond. Everything else is secondary.

"You may leave the cottage, the Fidelius charm extends over two hundred yards in all directions. I believe that you will find your day's full enough, with just getting to know one another. You will prepare your own meals, and keep the cottage tidy, no house elves."

"What do you mean prepare our own meals? I've never cooked anything in my life," Draco protested.

McGonagall said firmly, "We decided that preparing meals would be a good exercise—"

"In starving?" Draco laughed, "You can't—"

"It is okay, Draco, I can cook well enough for us to get by," Harry said. "How will we get food supplies?"

"Simply put a list of what you require on the table in the other room each night, and the cupboards will be replenished. You can also send a Patronus to send a message if something urgent arises." She looked over at Madam Pomfrey and added, "Why don't you explain the medical protections that you've put in place."

Madam Pomfrey looked sternly at Harry and Draco, "I will stop by every afternoon at four o'clock to check on your progress. If there is an emergency and you need medical help there are two portkeys on the dresser which will bring you to the Hospital Wing, they are activated when you hold one and say, ' _Medicus._ ' Keep them on you at all times." She peered at Harry over her spectacles as if knowing he wouldn't bother with the portkey. "Now, it is very late, I suggest you two turn in for the night. You've had a trying day."

McGonagall looked over at them critically. "Considering your history, I'm a little hesitant to leave you two on your own so far from the castle, but, Madam Pomfrey has assured me that they bond will prevent you from doing any true harm to each other and it is in your best interests to get to know one another and I'm sure that it will be easier here than in the castle."

With a last warning look the two women swept out of the room and a moment later there was the sound of a door closing. Harry sank back against the pillow in relief that they were finally gone. Draco was still sitting near the edge of the bed, and Harry didn't know what to say to him. Instead, he looked around the room more carefully. Their two trunks stood open and empty near the chest of drawers. Harry hoped that house elves had put away their things and not McGonagall.

The room was bigger than their dorm room but not overly spacious. Most importantly, Harry noticed, there was only one bed. It was big, twice the size of their dorm beds. He supposed it would be better than sleeping in different beds with their arms outstretched, but how was Draco going to feel about sleeping in the same bed?

Harry remembered how comfortable it had been falling asleep next to each other the night before, and how it had felt waking up next to Draco. It had felt _right_.

And now he knew that Draco was gay. The tightening feeling in his gut told him all he knew about how he felt about _that_. He was ashamed at his reaction in the Great Hall, but finding out in front of everyone when he had been battling his guilt about his— his what? It was futile to pretend it was anything but what it was: attraction. Harry knew he hadn't been watching Draco since the school year started because he thought he was up to something. He'd paid attention to him because the tosser was delicious to look at—

A hand poking him interrupted his thoughts and he turned his head to see Draco staring at him. "What's wrong? You've been staring at your trunk for the last five minutes."

"What? Oh, nothing. What time is it? We should go to sleep."

"We've done nothing but sleep for the last week." Draco said as he stood up and started walking towards the chest of drawers. Harry's bond immediately reacted to the separation and Draco gave an oath as he stopped to glare at Harry. "Are you coming? I'm not sleeping in my clothes another night."

With a resigned sigh, Harry climbed off the bed. "We need to just tie a rope around our wrists to remember not to separate."

"I didn't know you were that kinky, Potter." Draco looked over with a smirk as they walked to the other side of the room together. "What used to go on in the Gryffindor dormitory?"

Harry glared at him to cover his embarrassment. "Don't be a tosser, you know I meant."

"We already have a rope, a magical one." Draco pulled open a drawer and pulled out his pajamas. "I put your things in the bottom two drawers, because you're shorter."

"Thanks," Harry grumbled as he bent down to pull out a pair of cotton pajama bottoms and t-shirt. "I'm not that much shorter."

"Keep telling yourself that," Draco's voice was muffled as he pulled his shirt over his head. He'd again turned his back to Harry who watched the muscles in Draco's back move as he stretched. Draco's body was slender, his shoulders just wide enough to not be considered narrow. It was easy to see that although he wasn't playing Quidditch, he was still in shape. As Draco's shirt hid his nakedness he turned towards Harry, and Harry recalled what he had said earlier.

"So, you woke up first? When?"

"Just as they were moving us out of the castle. Don't know why I woke up first this time, but it was damned awkward. They were using Levicorpus. Didn't want to apparate us in case the bond reacted. It was after curfew, though, so no one was around to see us, other than Peeves. He got quite a laugh out it."

Harry grimaced, he hated to think what it must have looked like. "Do you know what happened? I just remember fighting in our room."

"You went down, I tried to catch you but must have blacked out also." Draco said it with a shrug as he picked up his clothes and tossed them carelessly into a corner.

As Harry changed he was very much aware that Draco was watching. It was only fair, he supposed, since he'd watched him. His body wasn't much to look at but at least he'd lost the half-starved look from last year. Ron's mum had taken care of that over the summer when she had redirected her grief from losing Fred into the need to feed and smother Harry and Ron.

"What's that?"

"What?" Harry looked around in confusion, he didn't see anything in the room that would cause Malfoy alarm.

"On your chest."

"Oh." He looked down at his chest where the jagged scar tissue made a long hairless patch through his chest hair. "Curse scar."

"You mean..."

"Yea, direct hit." He shrugged, "I know it's ugly but at least he didn't aim for my head again. It would be worse having two scars for people to stare at." He pulled on the shirt, hiding the scar but Draco was still staring at his chest. "Look, I'm sorry, but we all can't have perfect bodies like you," he said with a wave of his hand toward Draco.

"As far as scars go, mine are uglier." Draco held up his left arm, the Dark Mark clearly visible, the bondline crossing through it. Harry wondered if he meant the Dark Mark alone, or if he was including the bondline when he said scars, from the glimpses he'd seen of Malfoy as he dressed he hadn't seen any other marks. The bondlines were ugly, he'd have thought something that was supposed to be so magical wouldn't look and feel like a ropeburn.

"At least it didn't go on your forehead." Harry shook his head, he was so tired it was hard to think. "C'mon, I need to get some sleep."

"About that...there's only one bed."

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I noticed." He walked towards the bed and Draco followed. Harry sat on the edge of what he thought of as 'his' side.

"McGonagall offered to transfigure it into two beds, I told her that this was okay," Draco said as he walked to the other side.

"It is okay." he repeated, as he hit his pillow to try and make it more comfortable.

"You aren't mad? About not having separate beds?"

"No, I'm annoyed because you are talking and I just want to go to sleep. Lie down and go to sleep. The bed is plenty big for both of us." Harry hoped this was true and lay down facing away from Draco.

OOOooOoOoOoOOoOoOOoOOoOOoOOOoOOoOOOOOOOOoooOOOoOOO ooo

The bed wasn't big enough, Draco thought, he could feel how close Potter was before he even opened his eyes. Despite sleeping with the entire width of the bed between them, Draco could feel the length of Potter's body pressed against his. The bond, he thought, making them connect even in their sleep.

Resisting the instinct to move back to his side of the bed, he lay as still as possible to not wake Potter. Everything had happened so quickly he still could not get around the idea that he'd gone from simply trying to make it through the school year to being bonded to Harry Potter. A firebond, of all things, uniting them.

The night in the potions classroom when he'd gripped Potter's hand and the surge exploded the cauldron seemed like it happened a lifetime ago. The spark connected their magic for the first time. It was strange to think that his magic was no longer his own. For eighteen years it had been the center of who he was, and now it wasn't just his anymore.

Using the technique that his father had taught him long before he'd departed on the Hogwarts Express, he allowed himself to fully focus on his magic. So familiar to him, it had always been comforting to know, that even in the darkest days of the last few years, that his magic, his essence, was ever present and familiar. Accustomed as he was to its distinct pulse, he had a moment of panic when he didn't feel it. It was only after he took a deep breath and mentally reached out for it again that he realized that it was present but it truly was no longer _his_ magic.

The unique stream of Potter's magic that he had felt the night of the bonding, was blending into his own. There were no longer two distinct streams but something new and foreign. Their magic was weaving together, uniting him to Potter.

Potter. Everything always came back to Potter.

Listening to Potter's steady breathing and reassured that he was still asleep, Draco opened his eyes.

He was just inches away; his black hair had a bluish tint from the moonlight shining through the windows. A lock of it had fallen forward, completely covering his eyes. Draco held his breath as he took in Potter's sleeping expression. When awake his face was always tense, constantly on guard, Draco thought he lived by Mad-Eye Moody's mantra, 'constant vigilance.' In sleep, though, his face was relaxed, vulnerable.

Draco thought he already knew every feature of Potter's face: he'd been observing him for years. Being this close allowed him to see the way his eyelashes curled against his cheek as he slept, the faintest hint of freckles on the bridge of his nose, the shape of his lips. Stubble covered his jawline, the sight of which made Draco wish he could know what it was feel like to rub his fingers along his cheek and feel the whiskers.

Of course, he'd also thought he knew everything there was to know about 'The Boy Who Lived' but since the bonding it had become clear that there was much to learn. The little comments he'd made about having to clean and cook for his relatives, not to mention him shouting about the Dark Lord possessing him. The scars on his chest.

His mother had warned him, when they'd talked in the Hospital Wing, to not assume anything about Potter. That he needed to trust Potter and open up about his own past. "You both have been through so much. You have many secrets, dark secrets, Draco. You need to share these secrets with each other. It is the only way, now that you are bondmates."

Potter had been livid when he discovered that Draco had kept being gay a secret from him. Trust, his mother had said, "You have to trust him, Draco. And he will learn to trust you."

It had been impossible, though, for him to say the words. Homosexuality was tolerated, generally, in the wizarding world, but his father had made it clear that nothing would be allowed to interfere with Draco's obligation to his family, and though his father had been dead for several months, his shadow still lingered.

Draco looked again at Potter. Was he a virgin? If he had had a lover he must be more discreet than Draco ever had given him credit for, there hadn't been a whisper of rumor in the papers, even after the break-up with the Weasley girl. Maybe he'd taken up with one of the Gryffindors.

Thomas. Draco mused, Blaise had caught Thomas and a Hufflepuff behind the broom shed during sixth year. Draco felt a flash of jealousy at the thought of Potter and the well-muscled Thomas together, and almost immediately the bond started hurting.

Terrific, if it was going to hurt every time he thought about Potter with someone else, his rest of his life was truly going to be hell. He slid his arm closer to Potter, to appease the bond. Potter shifted suddenly as he felt Draco's wrist touching him and Draco froze as Potter pushed his leg against his. Potter fussed for a moment more before settling back to sleep.

Draco held his breath as he waited to be sure that Potter wasn't awake. His movements had stretched his shirt across his chest, revealing Potter's abdomen, and the enticing trail of dark hair that led from his navel to disappear below the waistband of his pajama bottoms. Potter hadn't seemed to mind when Draco had watched him change earlier, although he'd seem self-conscious at the time, two bright splashes of color staining his cheeks as he'd taken off his shirt. Draco hadn't meant to look but found he couldn't look away; and then he'd seen the scar, centered directly over Potter's heart.

His mother had him told him that the curse hadn't missed him, as many had theorized afterwards. Draco still couldn't comprehend how Potter, the git who'd been the bane of his existence, had survived two _Avada Kevadra_ curses. Was he immortal? If he was, then what did that mean for Draco, as his bondmate? He laughed to himself how ironic it would be if he was. He'd spent the war scrabbling to stay alive, only to find out that he was immortal, thanks to Potter.

The jagged scar on Potter's chest was still healing, unlike the one on his forehead. Realizing that he would never have a better chance to see the famous scar this close again, he impulsively reached forward to brush back the hair that was covering Potter's forehead.

Potter's eyes flew open. Draco tried to snatch his hand back but Potter grabbed it, his fingers wrapping tight around Draco's. They were locked together by their hands, so close that Draco could see the muscles in Potter's jaw tense as he studied Draco.

Draco couldn't look away from the intense green of Potter's eyes as his expression changed from sleepy confusion to embarrassed awareness. He wanted to tug his hand away but did not want to break the connection. From outside there came the cry of an owl seeking its mate that broke the silence and Potter blinked as if suddenly realizing he was awake. He looked down at his hand that was still tightly gripping Draco's and released it.

"Sorry," Potter said, his voice husky from sleep, "I—you startled me."

Draco opened his mouth to explain but no words came out. It was such an intimate thing, being so close to each other, yet Potter didn't pull back. Draco wasn't about to move if Potter didn't, and the silence grew until Draco felt forced to break it, to say something, anything. "I couldn't sleep," he said truthfully. "I was feeling the bond, it feels different now."

Potter nodded, "I noticed the connection before I fell asleep. It is harder to figure out where your magic begins and mine ends. Before, it was like hot and cold streams next to each other."

"I didn't expect to feel it like this." Draco felt safe admitting this.

"I didn't expect anything, I know nothing about bonds, other than what Pomfrey and Hermione told me." Potter shifted a little as he lifted his arm as if making sure that the bondlines were still there. Draco had noticed Potter doing this before, as if he expected that they would just disappear if he willed it enough. He didn't need any other sign that Potter couldn't stand the bond.

Potter rolled on his back and stared up at the ceiling. When he spoke again it sounded as though he was having to force the words out. "I shouldn't have said what I said yesterday, when we were out walking, about Voldemort. I know that this isn't the same."

"They're the same in that you didn't have a choice in it happening either time."

"No, with Voldemort, it happened because of what he did the night he killed my parents, but this...it was our magic that chose to become united. You didn't do it to me, I didn't do it to you, the magic made it happen—"

"You wouldn't tell me before about what you meant when you said about him being in your head. Did you mean Occlumency?"

"No, not Occlumency," Potter's voice was tight with strain, "No one knows about this but Kingsley and McGonagall, and Ron and Hermione. Since we are like this now, you should know about it, I guess." Draco heard him take a deep breath and then say in a rush, "Do you know what a Horcrux is?"

A shiver went through Draco's body. Horcruxes. The word immediately took him back to afternoon lessons in his father's library, sitting upright in a straight backed chair as he translated the Latin texts his father put before him. His father lectured on magic that they had never and would never teach at Hogwarts.

Potter turned his head to look at him, Draco nodded, still not understanding why Potter would mention Horcruxes. "Father mentioned it once, but only as example of how even wizards interested in the Dark Arts know that there are boundaries that should never be crossed."

"Your father was right," he gave a bitter laugh., "Those boundaries didn't exist for Voldemort. He tore his soul into pieces to create the Horcruxes and then hid them to preserve himself for eternity."

Draco jerked upright, "How could he— how do you even know he made one?"

"Not one, seven." Potter sat with his arms wrapped around his knees as if to shield himself. Draco sat two feet from him trying to comprehend what it would do to a person's soul to be torn apart seven times.

Draco struggled to remember what exactly his father had shared with him about Horcruxes. "Aren't they made by killing someone and —"

"Yes. He was a killer, but he used those slayings, at first, to create the Horcruxes. That is what we spent last year looking for: before he died Dumbledore figured it out and found two of them. Ron, Hermione and me had to hunt down the rest. The last one was —"

"That old diadem that you were looking for in the Room of Hidden Things." Draco was thinking back to how he'd been so confused that Potter had been in there looking for something while a battle raged outside the castle, but Potter shook his head.

"That was the fifth one, there were still two left after that."

"That last day? What else?"

"Nagini, the snake." Potter said. "During the battle I told Neville to kill it if he got the chance. If he hadn't then Voldemort wouldn't have died."

"A living thing can be a Horcrux? How? Surely only objects can be Horcruxes."

Potter pulled up his legs and wrapped his arms around them. Draco was aware of the bondline starting to burn, a faint tingling feeling that wrapped around his arm. He had the same feeling of dread that he used to have trying to slip through the corridors of the Manor when Voldemort was in residence.

When Potter spoke again, his voice had a hard edge as if he was having to force the words out, "Voldemort created two Horcruxes within living things. The snake and me."

Draco heard the words but couldn't comprehend them. "How could you be a Horcrux? What does that even mean?"

"I became the Horcrux the night he killed my parents, and it became part of me. I could see what he was doing, I could feel his anger or even worse his fits of excitement that told me something bad was about to happen. That is why I had to die, why I walked into the woods and let him cast the killing curse. When I died, he killed his Horcrux...it's complicated."

Draco looked over at Potter, his face was illuminated by the moonlight that was flooding the window. He wanted to get up, needing to move, to think, but couldn't because of the bond. Without thinking he reached out with his left arm for Potter's right, pressing the bondmarks together. They sat there silently, feeling the bond flowing through them; Draco still trying to comprehend how Potter could have been a Horcrux...

"Let's go," Draco said at last, getting off the bed and nodding with his head towards the door. "Tea."

Potter stared at him for a moment and then laughed. "Tea. The cure for everything including shared souls with maniacal mad men."

"Exactly. Sometimes I think it is the only thing that kept me sane over the last couple years." Draco watched as Potter climbed off the bed, his pajama bottoms had slipped down so that Draco caught a glimpse of Potter's hip bones and the faint trail of dark hair leading downwards before he hitched them up again. It took him a moment to remember what he'd been saying, "Mother would find a way for us to slip away to the conservatory and we would have a few moments to ourselves. It was our only reprieve from the horror."

"I remember your testimony, wondering how you stood it. Horror doesn't seem like an adequate word."

Draco didn't want to think about the trial or the crimes he had to confess to. "Tea," he said as he turned and walked out of the room, knowing that Potter wouldn't have a choice but to follow.

The main room was twice as large as the bedroom and had a fireplace with bookshelves on either side. Antlers from an animal Draco couldn't identify were mounted over the mantlepiece. A comfortable looking sofa faced the fireplace and two armchairs were placed next to a broad window that faced the Quidditch pitch. Draco supposed that the former gameskeeper liked to look out of the window and watch the teams playing.

On the far side of the room was a small kitchen area, pots and pans were hanging from one wall on hooks and the facing wall held rows of cabinets. A small range sat in the corner.

Potter picked up the kettle and filled it with water at the sink. "Look around for the tea?" he asked as he set the kettle back on the range.

Draco nodded and started opening cupboard doors until he found one that contained a variety of tea packages. "What kind?"

Potter looked over his shoulder at the selection. "Anything but the lapsang."

"Have something against drinking tea that tastes like you are licking a piece of burnt wood?"

"My aunt would serve it when we had company, I had some when she wasn't looking and have been grateful ever since that I didn't merit the 'good' tea. P.G. Tips is good enough for me."

"What kind is that?" Draco asked as he pulled out the package of earl grey.

Harry gave a laugh. "Muggle tea."

Draco found the cold storage cupboard that was filled with milk, eggs, butter and other supplies. He took out a pint of milk and then poked around. "Looks like they gave us enough supplies to last a month."

"Do you think we will be here that long?"

"Maybe. I don't know, it depends on the bond and us, I guess." He wouldn't mind it, he thought with a bit of a start. It was actually a relief to know that it was just Potter and him. That he didn't have to worry about the students in the next room or walking through the corridors with everyone staring at him.

A tea tray sat in the corner of the counter and Potter picked up the hedgehog-shaped teapot with a doubtful look on his face. The mugs on the tray were decorated with other woodland creatures, their ceramic tails curling around to form the handles. The teapot's whiskers twitched as Potter filled the teapot with hot water and swirled it a couple of times before dumping it out and refilling it, adding the tea. "Why not just use a warming spell?"

Potter shrugged. "Always done it this way, I suppose."

They brought the teapot and mugs to the sofa and Potter poured the tea and pushed the sugar bowl over to him. Draco took a spoonful in and stirred it before adding the milk. Potter fixed his tea with his usual two teaspoons and settled against the end of sofa his legs stretched out on the cushions, heedless of Draco who was sitting on the other end.

Draco shifted to give him more room and ended up leaning against the other end, stretching his legs out so that they lay next to Potter's. There was a blanket thrown over the back of the sofa and Potter pulled it down, covering their legs with it. The act seemed so intimate that Draco almost objected but the room was cold and he had no desire to go back in the bedroom for his wand.

Taking a sip of the tea he realized it was too hot and lowered the mug, cradling it in both hands to warm them. He stared down at the rising vapor to avoid meeting Potter's eyes. The oddity of the situation made him want to laugh; two years ago (or even a month ago) he never would imagine that he would be up in the middle of the night, having tea in his pajamas with the Boy Who Lived to Make His Life Hell Potter.

Horcruxes.

Draco looked up to see Potter staring at the empty fireplace and looking as though he was miles away.

"When did you find out about the Horcruxes?"

Potter didn't turn his head but Draco could tell by the tightening of the muscles in his jaw that he'd heard. Sipping his tea, he waited.

When at last Potter spoke, he had to search for the words, it was obvious to Draco that he was uncomfortable with the telling. "Dumbledore told me during sixth year. He knew he was dying and wanted to be sure than Ron and Hermione and I knew enough to look for them ourselves."

"You found out that you were a Horcrux and—"

"No. Dumbledore liked his secrets," Potter's voice was tense. "He suspected I was a Horcrux but left it to Snape to tell me. I didn't find that out until the last battle."

The room suddenly felt ten degrees colder as he stared over in confusion at Potter who was still looking at the fireplace. Draco remembered the chaos and horror that he had felt that night and obviously it had been nothing to what Potter had gone through, there obviously were many missing parts to the official story that the Ministry had released to the newspapers.

"Why don't you start at the beginning?"

"Are you sure? It's complicated and to be honest, your family, well, your father has a role in it."

Draco shifted uncomfortably on the sofa at the mention of Lucius but nodded. "That Father was involved doesn't surprise me in the least. Start talking, we have nowhere to go, no schedule to keep."

Potter took a deep breath and then started. "The Horcruxes were why Dumbledore wanted Slughorn at Hogwarts during sixth year. He had been head of Slytherin, of course, when Riddle was there and Dumbledore suspected - knew - that Slughorn knew more than he had revealed about Riddle's time at Hogwarts.

"Dumbledore had shown me his own Pensieve memories of finding Riddle at the orphanage, and even earlier memories of what his mother's family, the Gaunts, were like." Potter gave a grimace but didn't say anything more about those memories. Draco knew enough about the Gaunts to know that they they'd been lowly regarded among the Pureblood families.

"I didn't learn anything from Slughorn, though until the end of April. Dumbledore had scolded me for not trying harder. And truthfully, I really _hadn't_ tried, there was so much else going on that year. I know now that Dumbledore was afraid that he would die before the secret of the Horcruxes was discovered."

Draco couldn't help but wince at his words, because he knew what had distracted Potter that year: he had, with his mission to kill Dumbledore. The madness that had consumed him, knowing that if he failed that his parents would be killed. He felt a nudge on his leg and was reminded that Potter was next to him. 'You didn't get the information for Slughorn because you were too busy watching me."

"True, Slughorn seemed like such a buffoon, I couldn't believe he could be of any use, but you." Potter gave a laugh, "You were clearly up to something and I just wanted to prove it and get you expelled."

"You were right; I spent the whole year trying to kill—"

"But you didn't," Potter cut him off before he could finish the sentence. "We went through all this during the trial, let's not do it again. Dumbledore knew what you were trying to do, he knew that Voldemort had threatened your parents—"

"If the positions had been reversed, would you have tried to kill Dumbledore?" Draco set his mug down on the table and looked at Potter. "I don't think so."

"If there is one thing I've learned it's not to second guess another person's motive, I always get it wrong. We both know I wasn't always honorable."

"So what happened next?" Draco said, not wanting to lose the track of the conversation.

"After Dumbledore took me to task for not pressing Slughorn for the information about Riddle and the Horcruxes I resorted to using the _Felicis_ that Slughorn had awarded me in class at the beginning of the year, and it worked. Slughorn confessed that he had told Riddle about how to make Horcruxes, which led him on the path to becoming Voldemort."

"Curses of Salazar," Draco whispered, unable to believe all that happened while he was obsessed with fixing the cupboard hidden away on the seventh floor.

"I showed the new memories to Dumbledore and that is when he told me about the significance of the diary that your father gave to Ginny during our second year. It was a Horcrux and Voldemort almost was able to use it to return..."

Potter went on to tell the full story of the basilisk, revealing the secrets of the Chamber of Secrets and his father's role in the matter. When the events had been unfolding during their second year, Draco recalled being outraged that Potter had been able to get away scot free. It was clear just how fine line Potter had had to dance in front of the Wizengamot to not reveal the horror of the Horcruxes but still giving a truthful testimony about what had happened that year and his father's involvement.

Draco had known about the diary and his father's role in its return to the school, that had been revealed during those dark days in the Manor before sixth year; but he'd never understood why the Dark Lord had been so furious with his father. Now one of the reasons for his father's downfall was becoming clearer.

"Dumbledore had already destroyed the ring, that was when he was cursed. And I'd destroyed the diary. Dumbledore believed that there were four more Horcruxes. It was only later that I learned he knew I was a seventh Horcrux, but he didn't want to tell me."

"Afraid you would bugger off and join Voldemort?"

Potter flinched and turned his head to look at Draco. "Why did you say that?"

Draco didn't know why, the thought of Harry Potter and the Dark Lord as partners was so ridiculous that it shouldn't even have occurred to him. "Because the thought is beyond consideration — anyone who knows you—"

"No, I think you are right. I think that _is_ why he didn't tell me. He made up an excuse saying that he didn't want to burden me with the truth, but the reality is Riddle and I had more in common than not. Orphans. Parselmouths. Same wand core."

"He was Slytherin and you're Gryf—"

"No, I would have gone into Slytherin when we were sorted but I talked the Sorting Hat into putting me somewhere else."

For the first time since they'd sat down on the sofa Draco felt like laughing, the idea of Potter in Slytherin was preposterous. He nudged Potter with his leg. "You were not supposed to be in Slytherin."

"I was, or at least the hat wanted to sort me into Slytherin."

"Why did you ask it not to then?"

A flush came up Potter's cheeks and he sat up and reached for the teapot and refilled his mug. Draco knew that the tea must be cold, as neither of them had bothered to cast a warming spell. Potter sat, hunched over, his elbows on his knees.

Draco pressed the question, even though he was sure he knew the answer, "Why didn't you want to be in Slytherin?"

"Because of you." Potter gave him a quick glance to see how he reacted to the statement. "You'd already insulted the first two people that had been nice to me and you reminded me of my cousin Dudley. So I told the hat to put me anywhere but Slytherin."

Draco tried to imagine how things would have been different if Potter had been in Slytherin, he shook his head. "You never would have lasted, we would have eaten you for breakfast."

"Somehow, I don't think so, and if I had been in Slytherin we would have had figured out this bond thing sooner." Potter looked down at the mark on his arm. "George said he and Fred bonded when they were fourteen."

"Maybe. Would it have made a difference?"

"If we were friends before we bonded? Sure. At least we wouldn't have nearly caused each other's deaths after the bonding. And if we had bonded earlier, maybe all the other things wouldn't have happened. Maybe Fred and Cedric and all the others would still be alive."

"Doesn't matter one way or another. We can't change the past, but one thing I'm certain is that you would not have become friends or partners with Voldemort. I doubt Dumbledore thought that either."

"Maybe," Potter sounded doubtful. "The night he died we'd been out searching for the next Horcrux."

Draco's stomach gave a twist at the mention of that night up on the Astronomy tower. He'd learned during his trial that Potter had been witness to it, he'd never hated him more. Ironically, it was only because Potter _had_ been there that night, that he was not in Azkaban.

"You gave a vague explanation at the trial, about where you'd been. Just said he was already dying by the time you got back to the castle."

"True, but he was dying because of the trap Voldemort had set." Potter described how he and Dumbledore had found the Horcrux in the cave. Draco couldn't imagine the horror of the place and the Infieri. He felt the bond starting to send warning signs and he didn't know if it was reacting to Potter or Draco, or both. He again reached for Potter's forearm. Potter returned the touch. Draco didn't know what was stranger, that he was sitting next to Potter holding his arm, or the fact that he'd done so without even getting it a second thought.

After a long silence he seemed to give himself a shake and looked over at Draco. "It was only after he died that we learned that the locket was false. Someone had already taken the real Horcrux."

" _What?_ "

"They'd left a note. Dumbledore drank the poison for nothing, and if he hadn't done that..."

With Potter's words, Draco realized that the piece of the puzzle had finally fallen into place. In all the times he had replayed his race up the steps and confronting Dumbledore, he'd never had been able to understand how he could have disarmed Dumbledore so easily.

He finished the sentence that Potter had left hanging in the air. "He would have had his full strength, I wouldn't have been able to disarm him. He could have fended off the Death Eaters."

"What happened, had to happen. If you hadn't disarmed him then you wouldn't have become master of the Elder Wand, and I wouldn't have been able to duel Voldemort."

Draco shook his head., "I suppose we could argue until the Nargles leave the fairylands but, you are right, we can't change the past. How did you find the real locket?"

Potter gave a smile and shrugged. "We disguised ourselves and walked into the Ministry of Magic and got it back."

"You did not."

"We did. Right at the beginning of September. Umbridge had the locket and we got it."

As Potter described how he and the others had done the impossible Draco couldn't help but remember what he'd been doing at that same time. Snape was officially the headmaster, but the Carrow brothers had taken control of the school. They had immediately assigned him to be the captain of their patrol squads. Draco had had no choice but to accept the 'honor'.

Snape had pulled him aside and warned him to tread very carefully, mask his feelings as best he could. 'Sometimes to bring about change you must risk it all. An advocate for the devil can succeed where others fail.'

The rest of the school year became a blur as he gave the appearance of obeying the Carrows, all the while doing his best to misdirect the patrols to protect the rebel students from being caught and subjected to the Carrows' punishments that bordered on torture.

A few times he had considered reaching out to Longbottom and the others, but had been afraid that the gesture would have been rebuffed. The memories of the events from the past year still haunted his nightmares.

Draco shook his head at the narrow escape that they had had from the Ministry and how their safe house had been compromised by Yaxley.

"Why was none of this brought up in the trials?"

"Do you think the Ministry really wants it known that three seventeen year-olds snuck in and penetrated one of the most secure areas of the Ministry?"

Draco gave a laugh at the thought of the three of them just blindly entering the Ministry and, through sheer luck and madness, making it out again without being captured. "That was a completely Gryffindor move, charging straight into enemy territory with no planning, no escape route."

Potter protested, "We had an escape plan, it was run like heck for the doors."

Snorting at the idea that 'running' could be considered a plan, Draco prodded him to continue. "So, you had the locket."

"Yes, but we had no way of destroying it and there were still the others." Potter talked on, his voice hesitant as he described Ron Weasley's abrupt departure, and the Christmas trip to Godric's Hollow.

"I was there when the Dark— when _he_ realized you had slipped through his fingers. He went insane with anger. I was afr—"

Potter turned to look at him. "Afraid of what?"

"I was afraid he would kill Lovegood. She had just arrived at the Manor and he wanted blood," Draco whispered. He'd already witnessed a teacher being murdered, he didn't think he could have borne the murder of a fellow student.

The fears of that night had been tempered by the relief he'd felt at Potter's near escape. Potter's near capture forced him to fully accept the fact that he was desperately counting on _Potter_ somehow coming through and finding a way to destroy the Dark Lord. It had seemed an impossible task, at the same time he was living in the same house as the madman and was powerless.

"But he didn't."

"No. He tortured and killed the Death Eater who had been stationed outside the house. His job had been to bring back the snake."

Potter pointed to two small scars on his arm, just above the bondline. "I hated that snake."

"It got you?" Draco ran his fingers over the scar.

"Hermione patched it up with Dittany." Harry yawned. "Let's call it a night. It is going to be morning soon. We can talk more later. I'm wiped out." He shifted so he was stretched out along the sofa again, rubbing a hand over his eyes.

Draco looked around the room in surprise as he saw the streaks of pink and orange coming through the window, it was already dawn. Draco stood up. "Come on, Potter. The bed is in the other room."

Potter shook his head and instead he reached and grabbed Draco's hand and tugged, Draco pulled back, resisting him. "I'm too tired to move, sleep here."

Draco protested, but Potter tugged on his hand again and Draco allowed himself to be pulled onto the sofa, what difference did it make? Potter gave a satisfactory grunt and turned on his side, leaving Draco to settle between him and the sofa back. Potter was asleep before Draco could spread the blanket over them. Refusing to ponder if either of them would have regrets when they woke up, he wrapped his arm around Potter's waist because there was no other place to put it and closed his eyes.

When he woke he immediately was aware of two things: sleeping on the sofa had been a terrible idea and the cock which his right hand was in the process of stroking was not his own.

Fully awake in an instant, he tried to pull his hand away but Potter whined and grasped his hand tightly, stopping him. "Please, I just... don't stop..." The need in Potter's voice was clear as he started pushing back against Draco, his arse against Draco's cock which was already hard and aching.

Refusing to ponder the wisdom of what they were doing, Draco cursed the narrowness of the sofa as he wrapped his legs around Potter, pulling him as close as he could, his hand joined with Potter's as they stroked him together. Potter flung his head back against Draco's shoulder, his eyes shut tight, as his body thrust back and forth against Draco, until at last he cried out, covering both their hands as he moaned his release.

Dizzy with his own need, Draco reached forward with both hands and grabbed Potter's hips to hold him still and ground against him, wishing he could Vanish their pajamas in order to feel Potter's flesh against his own but he was not willing to stop or part long enough to even pull down the material.

Draco squeezed his eyes shut, he could feel the rasp of Potter's whiskers against his own, Potter's breath was ragged as he moved his pelvis against Draco's. He reached back with his arm to grip Draco's hips as if to force him closer. It was Potter's whispered, "Come on, Draco" in his ear that pushed him over the edge, he had to bite his cheek to keep from shouting as he came.

Potter kept his body snug against Draco as he thrust through the last of his orgasm. Only after he stopped did Potter shift, just enough to get some space between them. Draco willed his breath to return to normal, his heart to stop racing. He knew he should move, but he didn't have the energy to open his eyes, let alone get up.

He felt Potter's hand drift up to run along his arm. If it had been anyone else Draco would have thought the gesture would be one of affection; knowing it was Potter meant that it most likely was the bond guiding the caress. He was surprised that Potter was even still lying next to him, that he hadn't sprung off the sofa in horror at what they'd done. Resting his head against the cushion Draco tried to compose himself enough to know what to say. 'Sorry for wanking you in my sleep' apologies were not ones his mother had ever covered during her etiquette lessons.

The condition of his pajamas made Draco painfully aware that they were both in need of cleaning up, and their wands were in the other room. There was nothing to be done but to face the consequences as best he could.

"It seems I can add wanking Harry Potter to the list of things that I did not anticipate happening this year." His head swam slightly as he sat up and put his feet on the ground. "Give me your shirt."

"What? Oh." For once Draco was glad for Potter's natural inarticulateness as he pulled off his shirt and handed it over without saying another word. Draco cleaned himself as best he could and then tossed the shirt on the floor.

"I need to change." He stood up and looked down at Potter waiting for him to join him. Potter bit his lip as if he wanted to say something but in the end he just nodded, and they crossed over to their bedroom.

Draco pulled open his drawer, randomly grabbed some clothes and went directly into the bathroom and closed the door behind him. He sagged against it in relief. Bloody Harry Potter. The subject of his schoolboy fantasies and now...

Draco went to the sink and turned the taps on full blast. Splashing water on his face, he relived the moment that he realized that it was Potter's he'd been stroking. Salazar. He straightened and looked at his reflection in the mirror. How was he ever going to look Potter in the eye again? He'd been wanking the git, in his sleep. Fuck.

Wishing he had the option to stay in the bathroom the rest of the day he dressed as slowly as he could and then reluctantly opened the door. Potter was stretched out on the bed, dressed only in a pair of Muggle jeans, his arms crossed over his face. Draco swallowed hard at the sight of the top button of his jeans that had yet to be fastened, the muscles of his abdomen were stretched tight and Draco imagined what it would be like pull down the zipper and trace those muscles with his tongue.

Potter spoke, his face still covered, "I'm sorry. I woke up and I could feel you and Merlin it felt good, and I couldn't stop—"

Draco almost laughed with relief at Potter's confession, if he was willing to take the blame for what just happened, far be it from Draco to argue. "I get it, Potter. It isn't like you were molesting someone's who has never been touched."

"You've...? I mean, of course, you have..." Potter turned a bright shade of red and Draco thought to himself with some satisfaction.

"First time getting off with someone?"

"You could say that," Potter ran through his fingers through hair, the tangled mess looked no worse than usual for a night spent on the sofa.

"I did say that."

"This is going to be a very long day, isn't it?" Potter sat up and seemed to be gearing himself up as he stood and secured his jeans before pulling on a shirt.

"Most definitely," Draco said with a smirk. "The least you can do to make up for abusing me in my sleep is to make breakfast."

"Sure." Potter seemed to be eager to have something to do and he was halfway out the door before he skidded to a stop and gave Draco a look of astonishment.

"What?"

"Look at us. I mean, look at how far apart we are." Potter motioned with his arm, "And the bond hasn't started hurting."

Draco calculated the distance, they were at least eight feet apart, farthest than they'd been apart since the night they bonded. Thinking about it, the bond should have hurt when he'd retreated into the bathroom. Interesting.

"Well done, Potter, you hit upon the one sure way to appease the bond —"

"You mean?"

"It is the only thing that we've done that could have made a difference." He looked at Potter, it was easy to see what he was thinking. If wanking together let them stand this far apart, what would happen if they did more? Draco felt his cock stiffen at the thought of testing the theory.

"Should I see how far I can go?"

Draco nodded and Potter walked backwards a few more steps and when he was about twelve feet away the bond started burning.

"That's better at least. We'll be able to walk around the room without being right next to each other."

Draco shrugged. "It is an improvement. I'm starved and you still need to prove you can cook."

They walked into the kitchen area and Potter opened the cooling cupboard. "We aren't going to starve, I told you I can cook." Potter pulled out a plate of bacon and a bowl of eggs. "Bacon and eggs, okay?"

Draco looked doubtfully at the bowl of eggs. "What are you going to do to them?"

"Cook them," Potter said with a smile. "They taste better that way."

"You've eaten them raw?" The idea was disgusting, Draco couldn't imagine Potter even wanting to try raw eggs.

Potter's hand hesitated as he reached up for a frying pan that was hanging on a hook on the wall. "Not by choice. Last year, we spent a lot of time camping whilst we were hiding. Food was difficult to come by, cooking up proper meals was even harder. How do you like your eggs?"

Draco was still trying to comprehend Potter and his friends eating raw eggs to survive. "What?"

"Your eggs, how do you like them?"

How did he like his eggs? He'd never been asked how he wanted his eggs. The house elves at Malfoy Manor served breakfast following the menu set up by his mother. And his mother followed a regular ritual, scrambled eggs on Mondays, soft boiled on Tuesdays, etc.

"What day is it?"

"What day—" Potter looked at him curiously. "Sunday, I think, yeah, Sunday."

"If it is Sunday, then they should be poached."

Potter shook his head and laughed as he set the pan down. "I am _not_ a house elf, scrambled or fried?"

Draco felt his nostrils flare in annoyance but waved his hand. "Just fix something before we faint from hunger." He looked over to where the table and chairs were, the distance was farther than the bond would allow he was sure. As a result he stood disconcertingly in the middle of the kitchen, uncertain what to do with himself.

"There was some bread in that cupboard. Can you slice it for the toast?" Potter asked as he set the kettle on the other burner for tea.

Finding the loaf of bread, Draco pulled a knife out of the wood block holder on the counter and started cutting into the loaf. To his dismay the loaf squished down as he was cutting and he ended up with a slice that was an inch thick on one end and paper thin on the other end.

Setting it aside he tried again, digging the knife harder into the loaf. The next slice looked worse than first one. His father would have punished any house elf that had dared to serve such slices of bread. He was about to try again when he heard a chuckle. He looked over to see Potter standing next to him with a bemused look on his face.

"What?" He asked, a little more aggressively than he meant to.

Potter reached over and pulled a large knife from the wood block. "Just like there are different stirring rods for potions, there are all kinds of knives for in the kitchen. You're trying to use a paring knife, this is a bread knife. Try it, it'll work better." Potter turned back to the cooktop and started draping slices of bacon along the bottom of a pan.

Draco resisted the urge to call Potter on his not subtle jab at Draco's tutoring lesson that had started this whole nightmare. He picked up the knife and jabbed it into the bread; to his surprise the resulting slice was almost respectable looking. He cut three more slices and then turned back to Potter.

"Now what?"

Why don't you try to figure out how to make the toaster work?" Potter said without stopping what he was doing.

"Perhaps you don't understand the concept of _never cooked before_. What's a toaster?"

"It turns bread into toast." Potter pointed at a device on the counter. "Problem is I've never used a magical one before, on a Muggle one there is a lever to press down to turn it on."

"There's no lever on this contraption," Draco said as he turned it one way then the other. There were three slots on the top. Not knowing what else to do he picked up three slices of the bread and placed them in the slots. Immediately the toaster began to hum and a red glow emerged from the openings. Draco looked up with a grin as Potter gave a laugh of delight.

"Well, that was easy." Potter turned back to the counter and started to crack eggs into a bowl. Looking over his shoulder back at Draco, he added, "Can you find me a fork or a whisk?"

Not about to show his ignorance and ask what a whisk was, Draco opened drawers until he found a fork and handed it to him. Potter took it without a word and started whipping the egg mixture.

"Why don't you use magic for cooking?" Draco asked as he watched, thinking that one must be able to use magic to do the tasks that Potter was doing.

"You can, if you know how, Ron's mum does, but I don't know the cooking spells. This is how my Muggle aunt taught me." Potter eyed the bacon that was sizzling in the pan and used the fork to turn the rashers.

Taking advantage of his distraction, Draco studied him from the back and decided his opinion Muggle clothing might have to be re-evaluated. There was no question that they highlighted Potter's assets. Draco's mind reluctantly turned to the bigger issue: he knew what it felt like to be pressed up against said assets, he even knew what Potter's cock felt like in his hand.

How was he going to spend every night in the bed next to him without wanting more? Potter clearly had been embarrassed by what had happened and wouldn't want a repeat. The bond was allowing them greater distance, but it still left the issue of the bed. How could he make his body stay on his side of the bed? He couldn't risk a repeat chance of embarrassing himself by throwing himself at Potter in his sleep.

He was forced out of his musings by a pop and the three pieces of toast flew out of the kitchen and landed on the counter. Potter turned to look over his shoulder and silently pointed to the shelf where plates and bowls were stacked. Despite his doubts about Harry's abilities, the room was filling with a tantalizing smell of bacon. How had Potter learned how to cook?

"You helped your aunt in the kitchen?"

"I had to, by the time I was nine or ten, I was cooking breakfast for everyone and had to help with supper." Potter pointed towards the cupboard where he'd found the eggs and bacon. "Butter is in the fridge, I mean, in there,"

Draco pulled out the butter. It was so cold that it would be impossible to spread onto the toast. Pulling out his wand, he smiled to himself, he would show Potter how handy magic could be in the kitchen. He pointed at the ceramic jar and cast a warming charm. There was a popping sound as foam bubbled over the top of the jar. Draco looked down in confusion.

"What did you do?" Potter asked, looking around. Draco tried to push the jar out of his sight but Potter leaned over to look into the jar and then Potter's lips started twitching.

"Don't you dare laugh, Potter."

With that, he did start laughing, "Might want to temper that warming charm of yours."

"How was I supposed to know that it would melt the stuff? There must be something wrong with it."

"Butter has a low melting point." Potter opened the cold cupboard. "Looks like that is all the butter, we'll have to put it on the list for tonight."

Draco was annoyed by Potter's smugness; he knew that it didn't take a lot to melt butter. He hadn't used that strong of warming spell on it. "Won't it just go back like it's supposed to?"

"It separates once it's been melted. Isn't as good for cooking, but it will make it easy for you to butter the toast." He turned back to the range and left Draco staring at the little jar of bubbling butter.

"If they can send over food supplies I don't see why they can't just send our meals."

Potter didn't respond and Draco continued to grumble as he spooned butter onto the toast. It dribbled off the toast and left a cooling mess on the worktop.

Potter pulled the bacon out of the pan and reached over and took the butter from Draco, and added a little into the pan and then deftly poured the egg mixture into the pan. Five minutes later Potter plated up the eggs and bacon and they sat down at the table together. Potter pushed the food around on his plate, not looking at Draco.

"You should eat," Draco found himself saying. He didn't know if Potter was still embarrassed by what had happened on the sofa or because of all they had talked about the night before. Potter had revealed —trusted— him enough to tell him the darkest secret of his life.

Trust, his mother had said.

He needed to show Potter that he trusted him as much as Potter did him, but where to start? Forcing himself to eat a few bites of scrambled egg he realized that there was really only one place he could start the conversation.

"I wanted to apologize to you."

Potter looked up at him in surprise. "For what?"

"For not telling you earlier that I was gay. I should have, when you told me you were, up in the Hospital Wing."

"Why didn't you?"

Draco stared down at his plate, but knew he had to answer. "I'm used to keeping secrets. Just opening my mouth and saying something like that, I wasn't ready."

"I know how that goes, but I guess we are both going to have to learn to share our secrets. How long have you known that you were gay?" asked Potter as he pushed back his plate and stretched his legs out under the table. Harry's leg rubbed against his own and Draco couldn't help but wonder if it was deliberate.

"Something happened fifth year that made me realize that I was gay without a doubt, but it didn't exactly come as a surprise, I'd always had a feeling that my interests lay elsewhere."

"What happened that made you certain?"

Draco pushed the eggs around on his plate, he shouldn't have indicated that it was a singular event. "I was shoved up against someone on the Hogwarts Express, on the way home, and let's just say it was an eye-opening experience."

Potter grinned for a second and then Draco could see him starting to think about it, "Fifth year?" he asked, his expression cautious, Draco nodded.

"That was when..."

"You and your Gryffindor hoodlums turned Goyle and...Crabbe and me into five foot slugs."

"You attacked us first," Potter objected, "If you hadn't—"

"Yes, yes, but that is what we did, we fought, hexed and cursed at each other for the past seven years," Draco argued.

"How the hell did we end up bonded together?" Potter muttered more to himself than Draco as he pushed back his plate.

"You would have to ask the bond, and it isn't talking."

"So what happened? Did you and..." Potter's voice trailed off and Draco knew he wanted to know which of their classmates had been the subject of his revelation and he wasn't about to reveal that secret.

"I—" he shrugged and went with the truth, "Nothing happened. My mother met me at the station, and returned me to a non-sluglike appearance."

"Do you prefer ferrets or slugs?" Potter asked with a smile as he picked up their abandoned plates and walked back into the kitchen.

"Neither, thank you very much," Draco replied as he stood up to follow Potter into the kitchen.

Potter filled the sink full of hot water and handed him a towel. Draco stared at blankly, not knowing its purpose until Potter handed him a wet plate. Grateful that his father wasn't around to see him, he wiped the plate dry and put it away.

"So what happened?" Potter asked as he turned back to the sink. "You said that you didn't get together with him. And you were only fifteen, right?"

Draco shook his head. "I was sixteen, my birthday falls at the end of term."

"Still, what does a sixteen year old do?"

"That summer, things were...complicated at the Manor. My father was—."

"In Azkaban," said Potter. Draco nodded, he hadn't forgotten Potter's role in his father's incarceration, deserved though it may have been.

"Yes. The Manor had become the gathering place for his associates, those that were not in Azkaban that is." Draco took a deep breath, not wanting to recall the details of that summer but knowing he must. "I escaped his notice when I first returned from school, thanks to my mother. She made sure that I stayed well out of sight of him."

"From what I remember of you talking in school I would have thought you would have been eager to take part," Potter spoke carefully as if afraid to offend him, but Draco couldn't blame him. The person he used to be had been a braggart and a fool.

"It is one thing to boast among your classmates, completely different to be faced with the reality. Besides, I had had this revelation and needed to consider the significance of it."

Giving it a final wipe he set the last pan on the counter. The conversation and the small cottage was making him feel claustrophobic. "Can we continue outside?"

The cottage had a small paved area facing the pitch with two chairs and a small table. The afternoon sun was still high in the sky, holding his hand up against the glare, Draco could see that a team was at the pitch practicing.

Gryffindors, he realized with a grimace. Potter who'd stepped out of the doorway behind him had come to a stop, watching the players—no, he was watching Ginny Weasley. It was easy to spot her red hair as she hovered high above the pitch directing the players into a new position.

Draco glared at the dirt that covered the wood chairs. The cleaning that had been done in the cottage had obviously not extended to the outdoor furniture. Wiping off the worst of it off with his handkerchief he sat down and tapped his fingers against the armrest as he waited for Potter. It was several long minutes before Potter remembered him.

"At least, you didn't have to break up with someone. Just hide from a dark lord," said Potter. Draco tried not to shudder as Potter sat down in the other chair, never noticing the filth that covered it.

"Right," Draco agreed, trust Potter to make a joke about a madman living in one's house. He waited a moment, trying to think of a way to explain what happened next. "I needed time to think and to get away from everything that was happening in our home. Mother made it possible for me leave the Manor during the day. I would go flying."

It was easy to remember the rush of relief he had felt back then when he'd escaped from the wards of the Manor. "I often ended up on a hilltop overlooking a Muggle town, I still don't know its name. That's when I met him." He clenched his hands, knowing that he had to tell Potter, but still finding it difficult to say the words.

"You met someone? Who?"

"A Muggle boy about our age," Draco said, waiting for the reaction what he knew would come.

Potter's eyes flew open with surprise. " _Muggle_?"

"Yes. His name was Scott." In the past two years, he'd never dared to say his name out loud, let alone talk about him. He'd scarcely let himself even think of the dark-haired, blue eyed boy and their brief relationship or the price it had cost him. Knowing his voice was shaking he started to tell Potter what had happened that first afternoon on the hilltop.

Draco had just landed when he'd seen a boy running along the ancient footpaths that criss-crossed the Muggle countryside. Scott had slowed and stopped when he'd seen Draco. Draco had been so caught off guard he'd scarcely had time to hide his broom behind a nearby tree. Scott's chest had been heaving from his running and had called himself a cross-country runner. Draco hadn't understood the expression but it was easy to see that the boy was fit, and judging by his lingering glances, he'd thought Draco was too.

"So, you and a Muggle named Scott..." Potter shifted uncomfortably, it was only when he gripped his arm that Draco realized that the bond was hurting again. He shifted his arm closer to Potter's and after a moment's hesitation Potter did the same.

"Yes. He was quite...straightforward in what he wanted." Draco allowed himself a smile. Scott had not missed Draco eyeing him, and had not been put off when Draco had stood up and coldly told him that he was expected elsewhere.

Scott had dismissed him instead, "Go on then. I'll just have a rest," and had proceeded to strip off his shirt and lay down the grass, as if to take a nap. His chest still sweaty from his run. Draco had turned and started to walk down the hill, only to turn back, telling himself that he would have to retrieve his broom and obliviate the Muggle. Instead he had found himself standing next to the Muggle. Scott, as he learned was his name, had given him a big smile as he patted the ground next to him.

Draco had returned to the Manor two hours later, with the knowledge that there was absolutely no doubt that he was gay, and that blow-jobs really were all that Blaise had bragged about. For the next two weeks they had met on that hilltop almost every day until the fatal day in mid July when Draco learned that his absences from the Manor had not gone unnoticed.

He'd returned to the Manor late in the afternoon, slipping through the opening to the stone wall near the conservatory he'd turned to find Yaxley waiting for him. The older man had taken him by the arm and dragged him protesting into his father's library.

Standing in the center of the room was the Dark Lord, his red eyes glowed with rage as Draco entered the room. Behind him stood Severus Snape and Helmut Goyle. His professor's face was emotionless, but he'd given a slight shake to his head when Draco had opened his mouth instinctively to protest what was happening.

It was only then that he saw his parents on the floor.

Yaxley had shoved Draco onto the floor next to his parents. Trying to comprehend why his father was not still in Azkaban, Draco turned to look at him. His father's robes were in shreds, his body filthy and bruised. Next to him, her blue sapphire robes crumpled around her, was his mother, her normally pale face parched white. Only a slight tremor in her hands gave away her fears as she stared down at the floor.

The Dark Lord began speaking, his voice cold and clear as he listed the treasonous acts that the Malfoy family had committed against him. Draco scarcely paid heed to what he was saying as he slowly began to comprehend that this was merely the prelude to their executions.

Then, he heard his own name spoken, he jerked his head up and looked directly into the glowing eyes of the wizard that he had worshiped for years only to realize the truth about him.

"Enjoy yourself this afternoon, young Malfoy? I think we should not keep your parents in the dark any longer, let us show them how you have betrayed your Pureblood heritage with filth."

With a flick of his wrist, a shimmering silver cloud appeared. In the center an image began to emerge, that of the hilltop and of Draco on his knees in front of Scott, who was leaning against the tree, his Muggle jeans pulled down to his knees.

His father's eyes stared at the image unblinking before lowering his gaze to the floor. His mother had, under the cover of her robes, found Draco's hand and squeezed it tightly. Bile rose in this throat and Draco fought to keep it down as he stared at the patterns of the rug and waited for Voldemort to speak.

Voldemort allowed the scene to play three more times before he'd flicked his wand and the silvery cloud and its damning evidence vanished.

"I demand an offering, Lucius," the Dark Lord's voice rang out clear and hard, "An offer to prove that my trust in you and your family has not been misplaced. You must make reparations. What do you have to give me?"

"My son," his father had spoken the words without hesitation, not even turning to look at Draco as he said them. His mother, he remembered, had given an anguish cry of protest. He'd said nothing, even as Gregory's father had dragged him forward and tore his sleeve, exposing his left arm. They had held him down as the Dark Lord came and stood at his feet.

"This will bond you to me and assure your compliance, however, the Dark Mark is an honor, an honor which you have not yet earned. As such, you will not be given the privilege of potions to ease the pain."

What happened after that, Draco could scarcely remember. There had been screaming as the Dark Mark had been burned into his skin but whether it was his own screams or his mother's protests he did not know. When he regained consciousness two days later he was given the task of killing Dumbledore.

Draco's voice cracked and he turned to look at Potter, who had been silent the entire time as Draco revealed one of his darkest secrets, "And that was the end of my first and only experience with someone. With the mark on my arm and the knowledge that death awaited my family, I had no ability or interest in anyone else."

"Did you love him?"

Draco gave a bitter laugh, "No, of course not. He wasn't of our world, he didn't know who I really was, but he was..." his voice trailed off. He didn't know, even now what Scott meant to him even now. "At the time, I thought it was such a stroke of luck, that at the exact time I had come to the realization that I was gay, I just happen to stumble across a boy my age who is not only gay but ready and willing? Afterwards, though, when I had realized that the Dark Lord had known all along about what I'd been doing, I wondered if he'd created a trap. If they had used Confundus or Imperius on Scott to make him be willing and used it to force my cooperation."

"Did he act like he was under a spell? Muggles tend to act a little foggy-headed when magic is used on them."

Draco shook his head and said with certainty, "No, he never acted confused, he had a sharp sense of humor." Draco flushed and added, "I'd always assumed that Muggles were rather dull-witted, but Scott, he was anything but dim."

"Then he wasn't under Imperius," Potter said the words firmly.

Draco wanted to believe him: if Scott had not been under a spell...it meant that he had participated with full consent. What Potter said made sense.

"What happened to your friend, to Scott?" Potter asked.

"I don't know," Draco whispered, confessing aloud the worst of the guilt he'd been carrying for two years. "I never knew his last name, or even where he lived. Until this summer I never dared to go back to where we'd met, afraid I would be followed. I went a few times after I was released but he never came by."

They both sat in silence and Draco knew he didn't need to express his fear. Voldemort had killed indiscriminately. What would have kept him from killing a Muggle who dared to touch a Pureblood wizard?

"If Voldemort had killed him, he would have bragged about it to you. He would have thrown his body at your feet."

Draco looked at Potter in shock, he'd never thought of that before. Of course, the Dark Lord would never have been able to hold back his enjoyment in torturing or killing Scott in front of Draco.

"Knowing him, I bet Voldemort planned on using him later to force you to do something else but never got the chance." Potter reached out and touched Draco's arm, gently wrapping his fingers around the bondmark that was still burning. Draco returned the touch, so their hands were wrapped around each other's arms, he closed his eyes and let the bond ease the pain.

Potter didn't try to talk and it was easy to let his mind drift back to Scott. Strange how Potter could, with just a few comments, relieve him of the guilt he'd been carrying around for over two years. He had no lingering affection for Scott, but it was a relief to think that he was probably still on the planet, hopefully still using his talented tongue bringing others off in parks across Britain.

He opened his eyes to steal a look at Potter who was looking towards the Quidditch pitch and found himself wondering if Potter had ever had a blow job. Draco followed Potter's eyes to where Ginny Weasley and her teammates were walking back to the castle. Had she been liberal in her affections? An emotion that Draco refused to acknowledge as jealousy made Draco hope that she had not; he would love to see Potter's expression when he felt his cock being sucked for the first time. Before this morning's encounter, Draco never would have even hoped that he could be the one to taste Potter for the first time, but he couldn't forget how Potter had felt in his hand, pressing against him and he wanted—needed—more. Which made him realize that he still did not know how Potter had discovered he was gay.

"What about you?" Draco said the words lightly, "When did you figure it out? You went out with the Weaslette for a long time for someone who is gay."

Potter hesitated and then with a flush in his cheeks he admitted, "Her name is Ginny, not Weaslette, but I...well, this last summer."

"Eighteen and just figuring it out? A little slow on the uptake, weren't you?" Draco didn't bother to constrain his laughter.

Potter smiled and gave a little shrug, "You could say that, but then I did have other things on my mind for the last few years."

"I take it that it took a flashing ten-foot sign to explain to you that you were gay, you were never very good at subtle."

Potter laughed. "Pretty close to it, I'm afraid. It wasn't as if I hadn't noticed blokes, you know, passing by or in class. The way their hair might curl around the collar of their robes, or their shoulders, or someone's wrists..." He flushed as Draco looked down at where Potter's fingers were wrapped around his own wrist. Potter tried to grab his away but Draco wouldn't let him. He wasn't going to let him retreat that easily.

"So, appreciating all things male didn't tell you anything?"

"I suppose it should have but, I had Ginny and that was okay. It was comfortable, you know, being with her, but it was never like the others described their encounters. It was just nice, having someone—"

"And this didn't clue you in?" Draco asked, rolling his eyes.

Harry shook his head. "Not until this summer. Ginny wanted to go to a club she heard about in London, Muggle place. And we hadn't been there five minutes when I noticed a bloke sitting at the bar near us and he was gorgeous."

"And that made you realize you were gay?" Draco asked, doubting that one bloke in a club would be enough to Potter that he was gay, if he hadn't noticed while living in a boy's dorm.

"No, it was when his partner walked up and started kissing him that I knew, I might be slow on the uptake, but getting hard while watching two guys snogging was a clue that even I could recognize. It was if something clicked and I'd been seeing the world upside down the whole time and not knowing it, then suddenly having it flip right side up."

"Did the Weas— _Ginny_ throw a fit?"

"No, she had this knowing look on her face as she leaned in close and asked me if there was something I wanted to tell her."

After a minute of Draco's laughing, Potter joined in. Ginny Weasley had realized Potter was gay before he had even known himself. "And that is when you broke up? Like you told me about in the Hospital Wing?"

"Obviously," He glanced over at Draco. "Couldn't exactly have stayed with her knowing that I was gay."

"You didn't think about staying with her anyway?" Draco asked curiously.

"What? Of course not, what would have been the point?"

"Well, you would have needed a wife, eventually." Draco said, amazed that Potter still needed the obvious pointed out to him, "It sounds like you were more friends than lovers anyway and that is the best foundation for marriages of convenience."

Potter stared at him in confusion. "What do you mean? Why would I marry Ginny or any other witch?"

"Don't you want a Potter heir? I may be gay but I always understood my responsibility to marry and provide a Malfoy heir."

"What?"

"Did not anyone explain this to you? I suppose the Weasleys wouldn't have considered it, there is enough of them to populate the entirely planet with Weasleys."

"Don't distract. You would have gotten married? How? I mean—"

"I was expected to marry, produce and heir and only then would it have been acceptable to form an alliance, or alliances, if I so desired, with another more suitable to my...nature."

"Why?" Potter was staring at him like he was a two-headed Bildersnatch. "Ron's family told me that homosexuality wasn't considered unacceptable. It is fairly accepted in the Muggle world, as well."

"It isn't forbidden, of course not. It is accepted that you will pursue your own interests in your marriage, but only after you fulfill your responsibilities to your family."

"You would have cheated on your wife with a—"

"With a man, of course. If it is done with the consent of your spouse it isn't cheating. Pureblood families recognize homosexuality for what it is, but it doesn't mean that a family should endanger its line because of it."

"But now..."

"Firebonds trump all," Draco said simply. "No wizard or witch alive would dare to consider marrying someone with a Firebond."

"But it doesn't mean that the Malfoy family line will end, there is always adoption. Or surrogate parenthood. Muggles do it all the time." Potter sounded uncertain and Draco realized that it was likely that whatever his conversations with the Weasleys about homosexuality, they had never covered the issue of children.

"There are methods," Draco agreed. "But not one that I'd ever needed to consider before. Up until a week ago I had never thought that a firebond would interfere with the traditional way of handling these issues."

Potter stood up. "C'mon, we've been sitting and talking the whole afternoon. I need to move." Without waiting for Draco he turned and headed down the path. Draco glanced at the sky and saw that Potter was right, the sun was low in the western sky, no doubt Pomfrey would soon be arriving.

Potter was turning in a circle, as if trying to spot the wards. "How far did McGonagall say the Fidelius charm went?"

"Couple hundred yards in all directions. Probably to about the edge of the forest that way, and to the pitch the other way," Draco guessed. "Do you want to walk around and see if we can figure it out?'

"Sure."

Together they walked towards the pitch, as they drew within ten feet of stands there was a faint shimmer in the air just in front of them. Before Draco could stop him Potter took another step, there was a snap and they were both thrown back, sprawling to the ground.

"Well done, Potter." Draco stood and brushed off the leaves and debris from his clothes. Potter just laughed and reached out a hand and felt the push of the magic wards that were keeping them from going any farther.

"Guess thats it then," he said with a shrug. "Why don't we follow it around, see exactly where the boundaries are around the cottage." Not having anything better to suggest Draco agreed, after all the time spent in bed and in the Hospital Wing it was good to be outside, and it had the added benefit of him being able to observe Potter without him noticing.

They had come along the far side of the cottage when Potter nudged him and pointed towards the castle. The figure walking down the path past the pitch wasn't Madam Pomfrey. It was George Weasley.


	10. The Bond

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter would not be what it is without the wonderful guidance and editing by the Omi_Ohmy.

Squinting into the late afternoon sun, Harry could see George walking towards them. Draco scowled and muttered a curse about interfering Gryffindors and Harry couldn’t disagree. Today had been awkward with Draco; Harry still couldn’t believe what they had done together on the sofa, but somehow the barrier between them had broken and they had really talked. He wasn’t ready to have anyone intruding on them yet.

Draco nudged him and Harry realized that George was only a few yards away. Forcing a smile on his face Harry waved. There was a large picnic basket floating along aside George and as he drew up to them he sent it with a flick of his wand towards the cottage.

“Hope you haven’t started supper yet, Mum is afraid that you would starve if left to your own cooking.” George looked at them closely, “You look a lot better than the last time I saw you. Poppy fully expected me to find you unconscious or worse.”

Harry gave a laugh. “Actually, I think we both are feeling better than we have all week,” he said, careful to not look at Draco, he did not want George to guess why. “Why are you here? Isn’t Pomfrey coming?”

“She was going to but there was a development and it was decided that it would be better if I came and talked to you.”

Harry straightened up and looked at George with alarm. “What happened? What development?”

George gave a shrug. “Nothing drastic, just some answers to questions were found. Why don’t we sit down?”

Draco’s arm brushed against Harry’s as they walked back to the cottage. George transformed a fallen branch into a chair and set it next to Harry and Draco’s chairs.

“Have either of you used your magic since you bonded?” George asked after they were all seated.

Harry shrugged. “Of course, I do magic every day...”

“You didn’t today,” Draco countered. “You did everything Muggle, the cooking and washing up.”

Harry thought back more carefully. “I definitely used it the night I left, and I think I did some in the Hospital Wing.”

“That might have been when you were still pretty weakened from being separated from Draco, what about since you’ve left the hospital wing?”

Harry looked at Draco. “You did that warming spell.” Draco nodded.

“Any problems with it?” George asked as he leaned down to flip open the lid of the picnic basket and pull out an apple.

“It boiled the butter, he just meant to soften it but he heated it up too much,” Harry said.

Draco protested immediately, “I didn’t do it wrong--”

“No, I’m sure you didn’t, your magic is to blame.” George stretched his arm back and threw the apple across the garden. “Harry, try summoning that apple.”

Ignoring Draco’s snort, Harry pulled out his wand. “Accio apple.”

There was a flash of red and a squelchy thud as the apple shattered into pulp against the Protego shield that George cast just inches from Harry’s outstretched hand.

“What in Merlin was that?” Draco exclaimed, jumping to his feet in alarm.

“Your magic is unstable because the bond is incomplete.”

“What do you mean it’s incomplete?” Harry said as he looked down at the mess of the apple in the grass as Draco sat back down.

“Can I see your marks?”

Harry glanced at Draco and he gave a shrug of indifference at the request. They pushed up their sleeves to reveal the marks wrapping around their forearms, in the late afternoon sun they looked like dark red burns against their skin. George nodded, “That is what made Pomfrey realize that there was something else going on. They are only half-formed, there is no pattern to yours.”

“Half-formed how? What is it supposed to look like?”

“Each set of firebond marks has a unique look, which is why at first they didn’t suspect anything, but all records of earlier ones show that they should have some kind of lined woven pattern,” George nodded towards the mark on Harry’s arm. “We thought that they were different because of what happened when Harry left, but now we know it is because the bond never fully formed.

“Hermione found a reference to a partial bonding from the tenth century in a book in the Restricted Section, the description of the bond matches your marks. The fight you had started the bonding process but it wasn’t enough to complete it. That is why you have to stay close to each other, and tiredness, the bond is struggling to unite you. What does your magic feel like? How is it different?”

Harry shook his head. “It feels completely different, so does Draco’s, we were talking about that last night.”

“But you can still tell it apart?”

“It weaves together; I feel his rubbing against mine,” Draco said from where he stood several feet from Harry.

George shook his head. “You shouldn’t be able to tell them apart, and when the bond is complete you’ll both have a completely different magical signature, a single stream of magic, identical in both of you. That is where the power of the bond comes from. Your magic is off balance because the bond doesn’t know how to regulate two streams of magic. You are lucky you didn’t try to do anything more than a warming charm.”

“So we shouldn’t use magic until the bonding is finished?”

“Definitely not. No telling what could happen as you get stronger and still aren’t bonded.”

Harry looked at the mess that the apple had made on the ground. “If the bond isn’t complete, does that mean we can stop the process?” If he could save Draco from being forced to be with him against his will, he would.

“You need to stop thinking of this as something that happened because of the fight last week. Magic may not be sentient, but it is definitely aware, it’s a living force inside of each of us, and so is your bond. Your magic and Draco’s has probably been aware that you were to become bondmates since the first time you met.”

George looked over at the Quidditch pitch and Harry turned to see if there was another team practicing on the pitch but the sky was empty. George took in a deep breath before he continued. “Fred and my magic flowed together even before we bonded, our magic knew we were to be blood-bonded. Your magic knew the firebond was going to happen and now the two streams of magic are trying to fulfill the final steps to unite and can’t until the bond is complete.

“How?” Harry looked from George to Draco, “What do we have to do? Have another fight?”

George chuckled. “As tempting as I’m sure that is to you, it wouldn’t work. It wasn’t enough the first time and the bond probably wouldn’t even let you throw a punch at each other at this point.”

“Then, what?” Harry asked looking from Draco to George.

“Sex. We have to have full intercourse,” Draco said flatly as he stared at George. “That’s why you came instead of Pomfrey.”

Harry’s stomach gave a twist even as George nodded. “McGonagall thought you might take the news better from me than them.”

Draco was staring at the ground in front of him and Harry would’ve gladly given away his entire Gringotts’ vault to know what Draco was thinking at that moment. It would be a lie to say that the thought of having actual sex with Draco hadn’t left his mind since he’d woken up next to Draco; but not like this, not because the bond was making them to do it.

“What about a bonding ceremony? Hermione told me that there was a ceremony that they used to use?” Harry asked, thinking that there had to be another way.

“There is a ceremony but it is more of a ritual. In olden times it was the way for bondmates to formally announce to the wizarding world that they were bonded. My parents are in favor of trying the ceremony just to see if there is more power in the incantations than we think there are but they were overruled by McGonagall and your mother, Draco.” George looked at Draco. “There is a chance that the ceremony might cause a problem since the bond isn’t complete.”

“Is there a time-component?” Harry didn’t dare look at Draco as he asked.

“You two are going to be the only judges of that, the only other incomplete bond was so long ago there are no clear records.” George winked at Harry. “There is a chance that the bond might be satisfied something less than full intercourse, you could experiment with different–”

“George!” Harry knew his face was burning red with embarrassment; he really didn’t want to discuss with George what would cause the bond to complete.

“Perhaps he wants to watch, to make sure we do it right.” Draco’s voice was tight and Harry could feel his anger coming through the bond.

“Hardly, Malfoy. The only reason I’m here is that I knew it was best for you both to know out-right what was going on, and what you need to do. There was some talk up at the castle about not telling you, just letting things happen–”

“I can’t believe that you and the rest have been discussing whether or not Potter and I should have sex, what business is it of any of you? Did you talk about whether my blowing him would do the trick? It is none of your business. This is between Potter and me and no one else.” Draco glared at George and the Harry wanted to reach out and touch his arm to try and calm him down but didn’t know how Draco would take the gesture.

“That bugs you does it? Then you’ll love this.” George wasn’t deterred by Draco’s tone and instead reached into his robe pocket and pulled out a small box. “The ladies in the castle and your mother and mine were concerned that you two may need a sex education lesson, which they expected me to deliver. I knew you could handle that yourselves, but I thought you might help to have an icebreaker.”

Reeling from the thought of Mrs Weasley and Narcissa Malfoy discussing his sex life, Harry eyed the box’s Weasley Wizard Wheezes logo. “George, what’s in there?”

“Just a thing or two from our new product line.” George gave Harry a wink, “You can be one of first to test them out.”

Harry groaned, the new product line was the ‘adult’ novelty items that George and Fred had started planning before Fred’s death. George had resolutely decided a couple of months ago to move forward with the products and Wheezes was soon going to have a new display room in the back of the store called The Blue Door. Wizards and witches who were old enough to cross the age line would be able to open the blue door that lead to the new showroom.

Draco looked from George to Harry. “You people are perverted.”

George stood up. “If you would rather have Pomfrey giving you a lecture complete with diagrams and a tube of lube, it can be arranged. As it is, I convinced her that having her come by every day to examine you would have a negative effect on your ersatz honeymoon. You two don’t need a healer checking in on you, you aren’t sick.”

“Well, that’s something, at least,” Harry said grudgingly. He felt the tug of the bond and looked for around to see Draco walking away. From the set of his shoulders and the thrum of pain building on the mark Harry knew that Draco was feeling distressed and he was ignoring the bond’s attempt to keep them close.

George took a step closer to Harry and put his hand on Harry’s shoulder. “How is it really going?” he asked quietly. Harry could see the strain on George’s face, the fine lines around his eyes that made him look years older than he was and Harry felt a flash of guilt as he realized how difficult it must be for George to be back at Hogwarts where Fred had died just a few months earlier. That George was doing it to help him reminded him of how much he owed George and all the Weasleys, they were always being involuntarily dragged into the melodrama of his life.

Harry pressed his lips together, as he tried to answer truthfully without saying too much. “It’s okay. Better than I could have hoped two days ago, actually.” He took a deep sigh. “It isn’t what either of us wanted, and now, I don’t want Draco forced to have to do...something he doesn’t want to do.”

“You need to stop thinking of it as something you are being forced into, although I can see why you see it that way.” George gave Harry’s shoulder a squeeze. “There is a reason why the bond formed between you. You aren’t being punished, neither is Malfoy. Talk to each other and find your connection, your bond.”

“We stayed up most of the night talking. I think that--”

“Weasley.” Draco’s voice was cold and Harry looked over to see that Draco was standing directly in front of George, glaring at where George’s hand was resting on Harry’s shoulder.

George smiled and let his hand drop down. “I’ll be back next Sunday, to check on how you are doing. There isn’t much I can do to help you until the bond is complete and you can use magic again.”

“Sunday? Does that mean you expect us to–” Harry broke off in embarrassment.

“No, the shop is closed on Sundays so it is easier for me, I’ll check in on you just to keep Pomfrey happy, but don’t put this off too long. The longer you wait the more the bond might react.”

George gave a grin as he pointed at the Wheezes box that was on the ground. “You don’t need to use magic to end the Reducto charm, it will enlarge as soon as you lift the flaps. Cheer up, you two, there are worse homework assignments than getting buggered.” George grinned and waved bye as he turned to make his way back to the castle.

As Harry watched him disappear past the Quidditch pitch, George’s words ran through his head. Everything was happening too quickly, he’d been thinking that Draco and he could just continue like they’d been, this morning had been nice. Now it seemed as though the bond had forced things to happen before they were ready. Discouraged, Harry turned to head back towards their cottage, not trusting himself to be able to talk to Draco until he’d given the whole situation more thought when he felt Draco grab his arm.

“I don’t like him touching you,” Draco said, his eyes were bright with anger as he tightened his hold on Harry’s arm.

Harry opened his mouth to protest that it was just George but realized that it was probably the bond making Draco jealous, just like he’d gotten jealous when Draco had told him about the Muggle. “Okay,” he said in agreement. “We should probably get the picnic basket inside; see what Mrs. Weasley packed for us. I’m sure it will be better than anything I could make.”

“What are we going to do with that?” Draco jabbed at the Wheezes box with his toe.

Harry eyed the small box uneasily, Ron had shown him some of the designs for the ‘toys’ from the Blue Door product line, it had some pretty wild things in it, but George surely wouldn’t have sent any of those items.

“Let’s take it inside, George is trying to help us, I don’t think...well,” he said with a worried look at the box. “We can just put it away.”

“You carry it then,” Draco said as he walked towards the cottage. Harry sighed and picked up the box. It was heavy, he gave it a tentative shake but nothing rattled or shifted inside

Draco picked up the picnic basket, muttering about lightening charms as he did so, but carried it inside without further comment.

Harry set the Wheezes box on the table and went into the kitchen where Draco had opened the picnic basket. The neat packages of food were still cool from Mrs. Weasley’s charm. Harry picked up one of the packages and read the baking instructions. “Her herb-roasted chicken is really good, we should have this tonight.”

“Are you hungry?”

“Not now, but the chicken will take about an hour to bake. We can have it with some jacket potatoes, if you like,” Harry said, wanting to have something to do. “Could you put the other meals in the cooling cupboard while I get the potatoes ready?”

Scrubbing the potatoes Harry watched Draco out of the corner of his eye as he folded up the cuffs of his white cotton shirt and unbuttoned the top button, revealing just the triangle of skin below his adam’s apple. As Draco fussed with the order of the boxes in the cupboard he would every so often glance over at Harry, a flush on his cheeks. Draco had to be thinking about what George had told them, how could he not be?

Draco reached up to fit the last of the meals into the cooling cupboard and Harry admired the snug fit of his dark grey trousers and then looked down at his own well-worn jeans and tatty hoodie that he’d picked up on a bargain rack. Harry was definitely getting the better part of the bargain, if they were truly stuck together for life. He chewed on the inside of his lip and wondered if Draco’s hesitancy might be in part because he wasn’t attracted to Harry.

The brush clattered into the sink as his hand slipped and Harry looked down at the potato in his hand: he’d all but scrubbed the skin off of it. Grateful that his Aunt Petunia wasn’t around to screech at his carelessness he poked the potatoes with a fork and slid them into the oven alongside the chicken.

Draco had taken out his wand and was rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. Harry opened his mouth to caution him against casting but stopped himself, Draco might not have liked George’s news but he didn’t think Draco would be so reckless as to challenge it. They both had seen what had happened to the apple.

“Do you think that the bond is why you were able to use my wand after you took it at the manor?” Draco looked over at Harry. “You said at the trial that it worked fine for you.”

“It did, not like my own but better than Hermione’s did before that. But we hadn’t bonded yet.”

“If Weasley is correct and our magic knew the bond was going to happen, maybe the wands did as well.” Draco ran his fingers along the length of his wand. “When you gave my wand back after the trial, I thought it would feel different, but it didn’t it.”

“Ollivander said the wand chooses the wizard, but I don’t know how the bond comes in to play with it.” Harry took out his wand and looked down at it. “I suppose we’ll find out after…” He stopped himself before he said after we complete the bond. He may as well be saying after we have sex. He leaned against the oven and then jumped back from the heat.

“You’re right, there’s no point wasting time worrying about wands since we can’t use them,” Draco said and he slid his wand into his pocket. “We should work on our homework, I mean, get our books out and study,” Draco said, as a flush crept up his cheeks, and Harry knew he wasn’t the only one thinking about George’s version of homework.

“Might as well.” Harry nodded and as Draco turned and went into the other room, Harry immediately felt the tug of the bond telling him that the leniency that the bond had granted them in the morning had worn off. Harry grabbed a book from his book bag. Draco was sitting in one of the two armchairs set by the fireplace, looking down at a book in his lap. Harry slipped off his shoes and sat in the other chair.

Opening the book to a random page Harry stared down at the book blindly. He’d been wondering all day what it would be like if they could forget everything that had happened between them and start over. He thought of earlier when they’d woken up together on the sofa, he wanted that and so much more. Stifling a groan he wondered what it would be like to have a willing Draco in the bed next to him. Instead, there was the constant pulse from the bond, not quite a pain, but a sure sign of the tension between them.

“We don’t have to do it.”

Draco’s voice broke the silence in the room, Harry looked at him in surprise. “What?”

Draco repeated, “We don’t have to do it. They don’t know for sure about the bondmarks. It is all conjecture on their part. They can’t have any proof that the bond has to be completed.”

“We can’t live like this forever, this needing to be right next to each other. Maybe if the bond is completed–”

“Maybe, but we’re fine for right now. We don’t have to rush anything. I sure as hell don’t want you to go all Gryffindor on me and do what you obviously don’t want to do.”

“What makes you say that?”

“You’ve been ‘reading,” Draco made air quotes, “your Charms book upside down for the past fifteen minutes, not to mention the shifting around and sighing like the world was ending.”

Harry looked down at the book in his lap, it was upside down. Cursing he closed it and threw it on the floor. “I wasn’t even thinking about the...sex thing.”

Draco snorted and shook his head, “Right, like I believe that.”

“I was thinking about this morning.” Harry turned in the armchair so that his legs were swung over the armrest. “I...was thinking that it wasn’t bad.”

“Getting off is never bad, just differing degrees of good.” Draco raised an eyebrow. “You can’t be saying that you want to go actually want to do it?”

“It being sex?” Harry felt his face grow warm. “Of course, I do. I’m an eighteen-year old male, and you’d be bloody lying if you said you don’t ever want to do it.”

Draco’s face was pale as he pointed at himself. “I meant with me. You actually want to complete the bond?”

“Better than going through the rest of my life without sex.” Harry muttered.

“Spare me, you could go into any club on Diagon Alley and have someone on their knees and their mouth on your cock in under two minutes.”

“You said it this morning, the bond trumps all. Even if I wanted to go clubbing like that, who would want me if I’m bonded to you?”

“Would that really make a difference? You can do whatever you want, you are bloody Harry Potter, frankly I’m astonished that you are still a virgin.” Draco was glaring at Harry like he was at fault for not having lost his virginity yet.

“And you would like that? George put his hand on my shoulder and you were ready to Crucio him. You really want me getting off in a club? With you having to be right next to us because the bloody bond won’t let us be away from each other?”

“I don’t get a say!” Draco was on his feet and paced in front of the fireplace. “You expect me to believe that you give a fuck what I wa–”

Harry scrambled out of his chair and pushed up the sleeves of his jumper so the bondmark showed. “Why is it easier for me to accept this than you? We are bonded, incomplete or not, we’re bonded. You and I may hate that we didn’t get a choice, but when the bloody hell have we ever had a choice in what happens to us? I was forced to fight Voldemort, you were forced to take the Dark Mark. I don’t want to live my life with you hating me because of this so you better fucking accept it and we need to learn how to live with it, sex and all.”

The bond was burning and taking a deep breath he willed it to stop trying to pull them together. For whatever reason it was important that Draco say something, do something, without the bond forcing him to do it. “Do you really hate me so much that you can’t even consider being with me?”

“I don’t hate you. I hate this.” Draco unbuttoned his shirt-cuff and tugged up the sleeve and took hold of Harry’s forearm, touching their bondmarks together. Harry could feel pulse of Draco’s heartbeat against his own, as the touch of their skin relieved the pain. He looked down at their arms interlocked, Draco’s skin was pale compared to his own and the edge of the Dark Mark was just visible to where it was pressed.

“It isn’t that I think you are horrible. It’s that it isn’t fair that we don’t get a choice–”

“Life isn’t fair.” Harry gave a laugh that sounded more bitter than he intended. “Some people don’t get what they deserve, other get far more than they deserve or need. Good people die, bad people live…”

“Who are you? The Boy Who Spoke in Cliches?”

“No, I’m the Boy Who Doesn’t Want to Live with Someone Who Hates Him.”

They were standing a foot apart, only their arms united, and the distance seemed too great and he ached with the desire to reach out and pull Draco towards him, wanting to feel the his body against him, taste Draco’s lips against his own.

Draco gave a choked laugh and shook his head, he was staring down at the marks and Harry felt a flash of anger over the power that the bond had over them. “I don’t hate you.”

“You don’t hate me.” Harry repeated Draco’s words. “But you used to.” He hoped Draco wouldn’t deny it, he wanted the truth from him.

“No. Yes.” Draco took a deep breath and looked up at Harry. “I hated that I had been born with everything and you had nothing and yet you always came out on top. You fought and won against an ogre, you rode a bloody hippogryph, and don’t get me started about Quidditch and the Triwizard. I could never compete against you, you were always on top.”

“I never tried to do those things, they just happened.”

“They just happened because you are Harry Potter, the baby who was a legend before he could even walk. I’d heard my father talk about you for ten years. And then I finally met you and I thought I would find out who you really were, the boy who lived, but instead you friended Weasley and that motley band of Gryffindors.” Draco reached up and brushed the hair back from Harry’s forehead so he could see the scar. The touch was enough for Harry to give in to the urge and he took a half step forward so that their legs were touching, their joined arms caught between them.

“I’m more than my name and that scar, you know.”

Draco was staring at Harry’s mouth and in the moment that Harry took to debate whether he dared to lean forward and kiss him, Draco was pressing his lips against Harry’s. Harry slid his arm around Draco’s waist tugging him closer and Draco deepened the kiss, nipping at Harry’s lips and sighing when Harry opened his mouth to him. Harry let his hands slide up Draco’s back, loving the feel of the lean hard body against his. He’d known it must be different; to kiss a man, but this was on a whole other level.

Draco’s fingers dragged along the stubble on Harry’s cheek and Harry knew that if he didn’t stop it now they might end up doing more than Draco wanted. As if reading his mind, Draco pushed back on Harry’s shoulders and rested his forehead against Harry’s. “Is this the bond or is it us?”

Harry fought against the urge to continue the kiss as he shook his head, “I don’t know. I want it to be us, but I think it must be the bond.”

Draco nodded, “I felt like I had to kiss you.” Draco started to move away but Harry tightened his arms around Draco’s waist so he couldn’t step back.

“Does it matter, whether or not it is the bond?” Harry asked, not knowing what he wanted the answer to be.

“You just said you didn’t want us forced to have sex and it seems as though the bond is going to make us whether we’re ready or not…”

“I suppose, but I don’t want...” Harry sighed and shook his head, Draco was still so close to him that he couldn’t think enough to make sense. He took a step back, even though his body was telling him to stay next to Draco. “Supper must be ready, why don’t we just...” he made a vague gesture towards the kitchen. “Think things over supper.”

Draco stayed out of Harry’s way as he plated up the food. They sat at the table eating and managed to make strained small talk about Quidditch. Harry could only pick at the chicken. Even though it was one of his favorite meals, tonight it tasted like cardboard. Judging by how much was left on Draco’s plate he wasn’t any hungrier.

Draco picked up the dish towel without comment when Harry started to fill the sink with water for the washing-up. The whole thing was so domestic that Harry wondered if it was a sign of what the rest of their life was going to be like that, eating supper and washing-up after a day of what? Work? Harry no longer had any of idea of what he wanted to do after Hogwarts. Being an Auror was definitely out. Draco hadn’t talked at all about what his plans were supposed to have been.

The sound of Draco setting the plates back in the cupboard dragged Harry’s attention back to the present. Draco set the tea-towel down and looked over at Harry. “What should we do about what we need to do?”

Swallowing hard, Harry was surprised at Draco’s direct approach. “Did you and Scott?”

“No. I -- it never got that far.”

Harry’s stomach was in knots, he’d always hated it when Hermione would force him and Ron to ‘talk’ about what they were thinking or feeling and this was ten-times worse because it was just him and Draco. “I don’t even know...I mean I get the basics but…”

“No porn in the Gryffindor dorm rooms?”

“Not gay porn,” Harry said. “Besides, It just seems cold-minded. We hardly know each other.”

Draco scoffed. “People who don’t know each other get off all time. We’ve known each other since we were eleven. What do you want? To go on a date and have me bring you roses?”  

“We only ever shown the worst parts of ourselves to each other. Like before last night I never would have guessed that the Draco Malfoy I thought I knew would ever talk to a Muggle, let alone do what you did–”

“What are you saying?”

“You were kidding about going on a date, but maybe we could look at what George gave us.” Harry said the words in a rush. He’d seen the box on the table and he was curious what George had thought would help them out.

“You can’t be serious.”

“George has gone out of his way to help us, when we first ended up in the Hospital Wing and today, he didn’t have to do it. I don’t think he would do anything cruel or--”

“He owns a joke shop. I think that in itself eliminates–”

“I’m a partner in it with him, you know.” Harry glanced over at Draco. “I suppose you are also.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, if we were married, what is mine would be yours, isn’t it the same if you’re bonded? So, if I’m part-owner of Wheezes, then so are you.”

The look on Draco’s face told Harry exactly what he thought about that idea. “Anyway, George has changed since Fred died. He is... I don’t know, less intrusive. Before he and Fred were always so there, bigger than life, always joking around. George is still trying to figure out who he is supposed to be without Fred.”

“That may be so, but I’ll be willing to bet that there is a dildo the size of a cucumber in there.”

Harry choked on his laughter. “He wouldn’t–”

“You don’t think?”

“You’re wrong.” Harry retrieved the box and set it on the table. Holding his breath he carefully flipped the lid off of the box. There was a sucking sound as the box shook and expanded to be a foot high and wide. Looking inside he was puzzled to see another box inside, labeled, “Start Here” the other box was labeled, “End Here”

Harry pulled out the box. It was heavier than he expected and, giving it a little shake, sloshed. He lifted the lid; inside was a bottle of whisky, and a pack of cards. “Well, this is a bit of an anti-climax.”

Draco picked up the bottle, “McGonagall obviously didn’t think to search Weasley for contraband. Maybe the dildo is in the other box.”

They both looked at the other box, and neither made a move to open it. Harry wasn’t entirely sure there wasn’t something really embarrassing in the other box, and if there was he’d just as soon have had some of the whisky before finding out. He picked up the cards instead and read reading the label aloud: “Truth or Dare: Wizards Edition”

Draco took the cards from Harry. “Weasley Wizard Wheezes exclusive party-game to encourage partners (or moresomes!) to explore and share their innermost thoughts and fantasies. Truth and Dare is one of the oldest party games on record. Why does Weasley think he can sell what any 14-year old already knows how to play?”

“I don’t know, there must be some kind of Weasley touch to it, are you game to try?” Harry asked.

“You actually want to play?”

“Why not? We can either sit and pretend to study or drink whiskey and play a game.”

“We could just drink the whisky,” Draco countered, but gave a nod of consent. “Fine. We’ll play your bloody Gryffindor game. Get some glasses.”

Harry got two glasses and poured a measure of whisky into each glass, as Draco cleared the table and opened the pack of cards.

“That’s strange, they are all blank,” Harry said, flipping through the cards. On one side of the purple cards was printed, with big thick bold letters, “Truth”, the other cards were blue and had “Dare” printed on them. The flipside of all the cards were blank. Harry picked up the instructions again. “The challenges don’t show until we start playing. To play, you pick a purple or blue card and hold it in your hand and the challenge will then appear. Subsequent questions or dares will be based on you and your partner’s answers.”

“I’m definitely going to need more of this.” Draco pushed a glass towards Harry. “Cheers” They both took a sip and Harry winced as it went down. It was smoother than the whisky that sometimes was passed around the Gryffindor common room, and a lot stronger.

“Still want to play?”

Harry set the cards down on the table, blank-side down. “If we don’t like it we can just stop, right?”

Draco nodded. “If you want to be a Hufflepuff.”

“Well, just to prove how tough Slytherins are, why don’t you go first.”

“Fine.” Draco reached out and for a moment his hand lingered over the Dare pile before he changed his mind and picked up a truth card and waited until the words appeared. “‘Name one of your erogenous zone other than your genitals. Easy, the nape of my neck.”

“Your neck.” Harry looked at Draco doubtfully.

“Ever had someone nibble on the back of your neck?” Draco said with a taunt as he tossed the card down. “Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it.”

“Right, my turn.” Harry opted for a truth card and groaned as the words appeared on the card, “What is one of your favorite fantasies to wank to? Right, erm--” He rubbed the card between the palms of his hands as he stalled. He couldn’t tell Draco that his wanking material of choice was imaging Draco in the Quidditch locker room showers after a game.

“Waiting.”

Harry tried to answer nonchalantly as he went with one of his oldest fantasies. “Oliver Wood.”

“That’s it? The challenge was a fantasy, don’t tell me you just think of Oliver Wood, do you imagine him in the locker room, or in the Gryffindor showers?” Draco raised an eyebrow. “On his broomstick.”

“Fine. Up against the side of the broomshed over at the pitch, I saw him there once with some girl,” Harry said with an embarrassed laugh. He could still see Wood’s breeches down around his knees, his bare arse thrusting against the girl he’d held pinned to the wall.

“You little perv, spying on your team captain. And that didn’t have you questioning which way your wand pointed?’

Harry laughed, thinking back at how unaware he’d been back then. “Back then I thought it was super-hot because it was a couple having sex. It wasn’t until this summer that I realized that I never thought about the girl, only Wood.”

Draco nodded and picked another truth card. “When was the last time you wanked.” He went to throw down the card. “We already know that one.”

“Wait. That wasn’t-- you didn’t wank yourself.” Harry couldn’t forget the feeling of Draco’s hand on him, he wasn’t about to let Draco forget it either.

Draco narrowed his eyes at him and then shrugged. “Fine. In the shower, when we were in the dorm room together.” Harry thought back to the other night when Draco had insisted on taking a shower. Figures he had been wanking, whereas Harry hadn’t dared to when he showered, he’d been afraid that Draco would somehow know through the bond that he was getting off.

Harry reached for a dare card. “Demonstrate, using your partner’s body, something that turns you on.” Harry looked up from the card and saw Draco’s face, his lips pressed together, his shoulders tensed as he looked defiantly over at Harry.

Fuck it. Gryffindor.

Harry reached over and pulled Draco’s arm towards him. Holding up Draco’s hand he sucked Draco’s thumb into his mouth and gently rasped his teeth along the inside of his thumb while his tongue swirled around the base and and down the side. As he sucked the digit tightly into his mouth he dared to look over at Draco, his grey eyes were fixed on Harry’s mouth, his own mouth gaped open. Giving one last scrape of teeth against the pad of the thumb, Harry pulled Draco’s hand away and leaned back. For a moment Draco just left his hand up in the air before quickly drawing it back and wiping his thumb dry on his shirt.

Harry sat back smugly and took another sip of whisky. The first time Ginny had done that to him he’d been embarrassed that something like sucking his thumb could feel so erotic. In retrospect he had realized that the times he’d been most turned on in their relationship was when she had touched his body, and he’d close his eyes and just enjoy the sensation. It was telling now that he had never been sure how reciprocate the favor.

“Clearly, I underestimated your girlfriend’s talents.” There was the same look in Draco’s eyes as when he’d told Harry he didn’t want George touching him.

Harry gave an embarrassed laugh. “Former girlfriend, and let’s just say that Neville is a lucky bloke. Your turn.”

Harry figured that Draco would pick a dare card and his body tightened in anticipation. Draco took his time, though, picking up his glass and swirling the whisky in it before taking a sip. Harry was already feeling the effects of the whisky and realized he’d better take it easy. This was one game where he didn’t want to be at a disadvantage.

Draco reached for a blue card. “Remove an article of clothing from your partner.” Draco eyed the hoodie and jeans that Harry had on, and with a huff he pulled back his chair, and went to stand behind Harry. Draco reached down and pulled up on both sides of the shirt. as Harry obligingly lifted his arms up. The black t-shirt underneath started to rise up but Harry pulled it down and Draco cast the hoodie aside. “Your turn.”

Harry grabbed a dare card, hoping against hope that the dare might repeat itself, he’d only seen Draco’s bare back, and he wouldn’t mind unbuttoning the fancy silver buttons and slipping off Draco’s shirt. The cards had something else in mind, “Give your partner a sip of your drink, using only your mouth.” Harry set down the card and picked up his glass of whisky he walked around the table towards Draco.

“Do I get a say in this?” Draco asked as he licked his lips and watched Harry take a sip. Holding the whisky in his mouth it burned at his tongue even as he tilted Draco’s head back and put their lips together.

Draco opened his lips as soon as he felt Harry’s lips and the fire slid from Harry’s mouth to Draco’s. He didn’t back away, using his tongue to taste Draco and the whisky, Draco’s hands were cupping his face and their tongues swirled together, tasting and exploring, his fingers gripping Draco’s hair.

Reluctantly he pulled back and was rewarded to see Draco’s pupils were blown with arousal and his lips reddened and hair mussed. Harry went back to his chair and sat down, picking up his glass. There was no doubt that they were both feeling the effects of the whisky and the proximity to one another. “Your turn.”

Draco picked up a truth card, “When have you been most afraid?” He laid down the card and his fingers gripped his glass but he didn’t take a drink as he stared down into the liquid. The room was quiet except for the ticking of the clock on the mantelpiece. A vision of the fire in the Room of Requirement flashed into Harry’s head, the absolute terror on Draco’s face as the flames of the fire surrounded him, the way Draco’s arms had gripped him as they flew through the flames. He started to say that Draco didn’t have to answer but Draco cut him off.

“When you were captured and brought to the Manor.” Draco pushed the card onto the discard pile. “I’d never believed that you would be able to defeat him, but that night I realized that after they killed you there would be absolutely no hope left.”

“You didn’t show that you were afraid. I thought that you would give us away, but you didn’t.”

“I was too scared to even look at you,” Draco said looking down at the table, his finger tracing the scarred surface of the wood. “I was terrified, and such a coward that I couldn’t stand up to them. I didn’t try to stop them even when they started torturing Granger.”

“You couldn’t have, neither could I–”

“But you fought, you were able to escape.” The color had drained from Draco’s face and the muscles in his jaw clenched and unclenched as he looked over at Harry. “I was paralyzed by fear but not you. You not only escaped but managed to rescue everyone else. I don’t think I ever hated you more than at that moment, because you proved how much a coward I was.”

Harry opened his mouth to object, but didn’t know what to say. There were so many times over the years when he’d been petrified with fear, it was a farce that Draco thought he was brave.

“You still tried, and you’re wrong about me not being scared, I was terrified that night. We hadn’t found all of the Horcruxes yet, and we hadn’t told anyone about them. If we died no one else would know what needed to be done to defeat Voldemort. It would have all been naught. I would have failed.”

“But you didn’t, play your card.” Draco nudged the cards.

“We don’t have to go on,” Harry said, the humor in the game having left, he didn’t want Draco forced to reveal anything more and he was more than a little afraid of what he’d have to reveal.

“What else are we going to do? Play.”

Harry took a truth card, if Draco had to lay bare his worse fears, he should be willing to also. “With whom and when was the best kiss you’ve ever had.” He taped the edge of the card and then tossed it back on the table. “The first one, I think.”

“Your first kiss with the Weaslette?”

“Don’t be funny, that kiss.” Harry motioned towards the middle of the room.

“Our kiss.” Draco looked shocked and Harry felt his stomach tighten as he wondered if Draco had had better kisses from someone else.

“I’m not that experienced but I thought that it was pretty good.”

“The bond is making you say that.”

Harry shook his head. “The bond made us kiss but I didn’t--” He broke off speaking and took a sip of whisky, feeling the burn of it traveling down his throat, needing its courage to continue. “You are the first man I’ve ever kissed. With Ginny, there was always something missing. I thought that it was because she was Ron’s sister. With you, I don’t know if it is because you’re male, or because you’re you.”

“Or if it is because of the bond.” Draco said with finality as he reached for a dare card. Draco read the card and then scowl as flush crept up his cheeks. “Sit on your partner’s lap for the next two turns.” He threw down the card down. “Why are we playing this? It is something third years play with butterbeer--”

Harry figured it was the whisky that made him scoot his chair back and pat his leg. “Afraid?”

Draco smirked, “Fine, but I’m beginning to think you should have been sorted into Hufflepuff.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t bite, much.”

Harry gave an oomph as Draco settled onto his lap. “You weigh more than you look.”

“Calling me fat, Potter?” Draco leaned back and rubbed against Harry. His weight was hardly the problem, Harry thought, as his body reacted to Draco’s squirming and he had to bite back a moan. It wouldn’t take Draco long to know that Harry was not unaffected.

“I changed my mind, let’s quit.”

Draco responded by running his hands along the outer edge of Harry’s leg. “Why, Potter? Feeling a little uncomfortable?”

Harry stifled a shiver of pleasure. “You wanted to quit a second ago.”

“That’s before I realized how comfortable your lap is.” Draco ground his hips against Harry, “Of course there is something–”

Harry shoved Draco off and stood up. “Enough. We don’t need to play a game to get us to have sex.” Draco caught himself on the table’s edge and turned around, leaning against the table.

“I thought we were playing it to get to know one another?” Draco said with a knowing smile as his eyes drifted down towards Harry’s crotch.

“No! I mean, yes, but we don’t need a game to do that, do we?” Harry resisted the temptation to tug down on his t-shirt to hide his obvious reaction to Draco, instead he took a step forward. “You never said what you thought about having to complete the bond.”

“Did so.” Draco leaned back as Harry took another step. Harry really couldn’t tell if it was the bond or the whisky that was pushing him forward but he didn’t care.

“No. You just said what you thought I wanted. What do you want?”

The bond that had been quiet during the game started to burn and Harry glanced down at it in annoyance. Draco eyes were on his mouth, and in Harry realized that the pain was coming from Draco.

“You want to kiss me, don’t you? That’s why the bond is hurting right now. It must hurt when we resist.”

“You’re making things up. It is just hurting because we’re fighting.”

“No.” Harry shook his head. “It does that to, but it started hurting before because I wanted to kiss you but didn’t, it didn’t hurt at all during the game because we were going along with everything.”

“Doesn’t mean--”

“You were just staring at me like you wanted to kiss me and the bond started hurting.”

“You clearly can’t handle your wh–”

Harry didn’t let him finish, closing the distance between them and pressing Draco back against the table, and wrapping his hand  around the back of Draco’s neck, his fingers in Draco’s hair as he pulled Draco to him and kissed him. Draco had been caught off guard, his mouth still open and Harry took advantage it, running his tongue over teeth.

Harry pushed his way between Draco’s legs and gave a moan of relief as Draco’s arms wrapped around him to pull him closer, and he started kissing him back. Draco’s hands were tugging on Harry’s shirt, pulling it up. Recognizing the mutual need to feel skin against skin, Harry didn’t resist as Draco broke the kiss, to pull Harry’s t-shirt over his head. Harry fumbled with the buttons of Draco’s shirt, trying to open them, in frustration Harry yanked the shirt apart, sending buttons scattering to the floor.

Harry smothered Draco’s objections with a kiss, as he slid his hand along Draco’s rib cage, feeling the heated flesh beneath his fingers. Draco ran his tongue and lips along his jawline, making Harry shudder with need even as he lowered his mouth to Draco’s shoulder, tasting the saltiness of his skin, the feel of Draco’s whiskers, softer, so different than his own. His hands continue to explore Draco’s chest, feeling his sparse chest hair.

Draco’s hand was gripping Harry’s fingers tightly to stop them, even before Harry’s fevered brain could comprehend the meaning of the hard line of flesh that he felt under his fingers.

“Don’t,” Draco said as pulled away, using his arm to cover his chest. Harry pushed them away to stare at the scar that bisected Draco’s chest, the line started just inches below his adam’s apple, the scarred tissue ran as straight as the wand that Harry had used to cast the mark, to just below Draco’s navel. A chill went through Harry as he remembered the spray of blood that had erupted from Draco’s chest when he’d cast the Sectumsempra.

“I did that to you.” Harry reached out to touch the scar but Draco batted his hand away, but he couldn’t take his eyes of the Draco’s marred chest.

Draco pulled the two parts of his shirt together, covering the mark. “Like you said, curse scars leave a mark.”

Harry dragged his hand through his hair, unable to believe how he’d permanently scarred Draco. “I never knew, I didn’t realize...I was such a fool, didn’t understand what the spell did.”

Draco stared at Harry in disbelief. “You didn’t know? How could you dare to cast–”

“I had an old textbook and it was written in as a margin-note, all it said was ‘for your enemies’”

“And so you used it on me.”

Harry felt the shame of it all over again. “I was wrong.” Harry looked down and realized that he was half-naked, he grabbed his t-shirt from the ground and roughly pulled it over his head. “I used it not knowing what it did, and if it hadn’t been for Snape you would have died.”

“Yes, which goes to show just how wrong us being bonded is.”  Draco turned away from him and Harry could see their reflection in the window, the darkness outside having turned the panes of glass into a mirror. “At that moment in the bathroom I wanted to hurt you in the worst way possible. If I’d known the spell, I probably would have tried to use it on you instead of the Cruciatus.”

Their eyes met in the reflection on the window. “It was nearly two years ago, we aren’t the same people anymore.”

“We still have all this between us.” Draco motioned to the scar.

“No. We have it behind us,” Harry corrected. “We both did things we regret, but we don’t have to let it dictate what happens in the future.”

“Behind us? Do I even need to remind you that we are in this mess because we had a fight only a week ago?”

“The bond was inevitable. The fight happened because of the bond, or at least our fear of it.” They were both still talking to each other’s reflections in the window. Harry took a step closer so that he was standing behind Draco.

“Neither of us wanted this to happen.”

“That doesn’t matter anymore, not to me at least.” Harry reached out and let his fingers run softly down Draco’s back, feeling the soft fabric warmed by Draco’s body. Draco gave a ragged breath as he and it was enough to know that Draco was needing the touch as much as he did.

“I don’t see why we can’t leave the bad things in the past.” Without breaking contact with Draco’s gaze in the window he took a step closer so his body was pressed against Draco. Draco tensed as Harry put his hands on his shoulders but with a sigh he leaned back against Harry, closing his eyes.

Reaching up, Harry pushed Draco’s hair back, exposing the nape of his neck. With a light touch he pressed kisses against Draco’ skin. Draco shuddered and pushed back against him and Harry, emboldened, traced Draco’s vertebrae, first with his lips and then his tongue. Draco reached back with one arm, his fingers digging into Harry’s hair, pressing Harry’s head against his.

Harry ran his hand along the front of Draco’s hips, down his groin to where he could feel his erection through the smooth fabric of his trousers. “I don’t think we should fight this anymore.” He whispered into Draco’s ear.

“It’s the bond.” Draco protested even as he pushed against Harry’s hand as Harry rubbed him through the fabric, wondering if he dared to try and unfasten the trousers, slide his hand inside.

“Don’t care.” Harry ground his hips against Draco so that he would know that Harry was just as excited. He nuzzled Draco’s neck, breathing in the delicious scent that was citrus and woodsy and so very Draco. He was awarded with another shudder as he suckled on the delicious spot directly behind Draco’s right ear. “I don’t care if it’s the bond, or the whisky, or the fact that I’ve been wanting to fuck you ever since forever.”

Draco turned in his arms and there was no stopping, with lips, teeth and tongue they gave in. Harry’s hands were on the fastener of Draco’s trousers even as he started walking backwards towards the bedroom, tugging Draco with him.

Tripping and cursing, their shirts and trousers were off before they crossed the threshold into the bedroom. They somehow got turned around and Draco was going backwards and Harry didn’t stop his advance until Draco backed against the edge of the mattress.

Draco wasted no time sliding back onto the mattress with Harry right behind him. Harry captured Draco’s arms and pinning them to the mattress, he ground against Draco, rubbing their groins together. Draco lifted himself up as high as he could to kiss him, kisses that were more teeth and tongue than lips. Harry knew he’d never been so hard in his life and as he felt his body tightening he was suddenly afraid that he would come before they even got their pants off.

He pulled back, heart pounding as he fought to catch his breath. “We need…”

“Drawer.” Draco motioned with his head toward the night-table. Harry scrambled across the mattress and pulled open the drawer, laying inside was a jar of what he hoped was some kind of lube. As he reached for it, Draco slipped off his pants and the Harry froze as he let his gaze run along the length of Draco’s body from top to bottom. The only light in the room was coming in through the doorway and it fell across the bed, highlighting Draco’s body as he stretched out against the dark coverlet. Draco was stroking himself as he looked over at Harry and Harry’s mouth went dry and he could feel his heart pounding in his chest: they were really going to do this.

He gripped the jar in his hand and stared down at it, knowing its purpose but unsure of the how.

“Potter.”

Draco’s voice shook him into action and he slid back across the bed. “You’re so gorgeous,” he whispered against Draco’s lips. Draco’s fingernails skittered down his back, Harry shuddered as Draco tugged away his pants. Then they were completely naked and as their legs wrapped around one another they kissed more slowly, tenderly, the frantic fever having dissolved into the need to explore each other’s body.

A shiver ran through him as Draco’s grey eyes locked on Harry’s and he took Harry’s hand and lifted it to his mouth. The sucking pressure as Draco took his thumb into his mouth made Harry groan in pleasure. The delicious roll of Draco’s tongue against the pad of thumb sent a shiver down his spine. When Draco moved on to Harry’s index finger and started suckling it, Harry knew he wouldn’t last much longer. “We need...I can’t…” he gasped out as Draco pressed a kiss against the palm of Harry’s hand.

Harry fumbled for the words to say what he needed as Draco trailed his hand across Harry’s groin. “Where’s the lube?” Draco asked as he nuzzled Harry’s ear and his hand started stroking Harry.

Too busy trying to control his reaction to Draco’s touch, it took Harry’s lust-driven brain a few heart pounding moments to comprehend what Draco was asking for, until he remembered the jar and its critical contents. Turning away, Harry felt frantically around the bed for it and gave a sigh of relief when he found the jar pushed under the pillows. He turned back to see Draco smirking at him and he laughed with him: two weeks ago he’d never of guessed he’d be in bed with a naked Draco Malfoy, worried that he’d couldn’t find the lube.

Draco took the jar from Harry’s hand. “Do you know what to do?”

“In theory, sort of.” Harry admitted reluctantly. Theory gathered from some rather lurid innuendos from the Weasley boys after he’d come out that summer, and a side-trip into Muggle London where he’d purchased his first gay porn magazine, that was presumably still hidden under his mattress in his tower bedroom.

“You were just going to blunder in like a typical Gryffindor, with no plan?” Draco said as he twisted the lid off the jar. As confident as he sounded, Harry noticed that Draco’s hand was shaking.

Suddenly painfully aware of not only his ignorance but how very naked he was, Harry fought the urge to retreat, as his stomach twisted with uncertainty. He wanted this, was aching for it, but knew that he could hurt Draco if he did it wrong. “Do you want...you can…” he fumbled as he realized that it didn’t matter to him how it happened, but just that it did.

Draco shook his head, and Harry’s whole body began to tremble as Draco moved cat-like on top of him, straddling Harry’s hips. “If you don’t mind. I think that I’d like you to show a little more of that Gryffindor confidence for my...our first time,” Draco said as he rolled his bottom against Harry’s groin.

Desire forced away his hesitation and Harry took in a ragged breath as he sat up and kissed him, his right hand at the back of Draco’s head and his left sliding down Draco’s back, his fingers teasing across on Draco’s bottom. “Show me what to do,” he said, against Draco’s lips. The need flared and darkened his grey eyes as Draco reached for Harry’s hand and showed him.

There were things that couldn’t be learned through innuendo or in the pages of a magazine, Harry realized: the heat of kisses against sweat-cooled skin, the toe-curling pleasure of hearing the hitch in a lover’s breath at your touch, the slide, the heat, the want, the need, the more. The beauty of seeing Draco with his head thrown back, his lip caught in his teeth, his back arched as Harry moved inside him.

The glow was so muted when it started that Harry didn’t notice, he was lost in the tempo and wonder of what they were doing. Not until the gold and red bands wrapped around them, and a whipping, roaring sound filled his ears. His eyes locked with Draco’s as fear suddenly gripped him. Uncertain what was happening, Harry pulled Draco tight to him, his rhythm faltered as the bands began to circle faster and faster.

With a crack of sound the light became blinding, squeezing them and Harry stopped, buried deep inside of Draco. Through the cacophony of noise and lights, Draco shouted something that Harry couldn’t hear. Draco started pulling Harry towards him, demanding Harry move, understanding, he began to thrust again. Holding Draco as close as he could, inches apart, their eyes locked on each other, as their skin glowed red, and the crackling smell of ozone filled the air.

There was no more time for thoughts or fears. Just the driving, inescapable desire for Draco. From inside the core of his body he felt the pleasure cascading through him as his body was seized by waves of magic that whipped around him, through him. He called out for Draco and heard Draco’s cries answering him as they both tumbled over the edge of bliss into darkness.  


	11. Night Visit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firebond is not abandoned! I know it has been eons since the last update. I've been swamped and not able to get back to it. Lesson from one who knows: do not make too many commitments, because everything suffers. On the plus side of things I have written the first draft of an original fiction work, I have no idea if it will ever see the light of day, but I'm hoping some day that it might.
> 
> As a peace-offering, I've written a brief interlude chapter to(hopefully) tide you over until I have time to write a full-length chapter. Many thanks to all of you who have been following the story. Your comments and encouragements are much appreciated. This chapter is completely unbeta'd and written in one session, apologies for all errors!

The sound of Poppy's voice startled Minerva awake. She looked around to see the nurse's lop-eared rabbit Patronus sitting on the foot of her bed, announcing again: "The boys' alarm went off." The Patronus repeated the message one more time, as Minerva sat up and flung back the bed covers. Apparently satisfied that the message had been delivered the Patronus bunny hopped off the bed and disappeared with a pop through the nearest wall.

Cursing the coldness of the room as she hurried over to the wardrobe, Minerva flung open its doors and pulled out her heaviest tartan cape and putting it on over her nightclothes. The precautionary spell Poppy had put on the boys was only supposed to go off if they both lost consciousness.

Minerva hastily found her wellies and slipped her feet into them, not bothering with socks. The welfare of all the students at Hogwarts was of utmost importance to her, but especially Harry Potter's and Draco Malfoy's. The two men had been through so much in their eighteen years, Minerva hoped desperately that whatever had set off Poppy's warning spell wasn't another setback after a deeply troubling week.

By the time she made it down the curving staircase and into the main entrance, Poppy was hurrying towards the front doors, the large skeleton key in her hand.

"There is no time to waste," Poppy said as she slipped the key into the lock and started turning it to release the large bar that protected the entrance to the school. Minerva hurried to the small cloakroom in the antechamber and pulled out two brooms. Not bothering to close the doors behind them, the two women quickly mounted the brooms.

Pulling her cape up keep it out of the way, Minerva took off, Poppy right beside her. They flew low and fast along the path towards the Quidditch pitch. Minerva shivered with cold from the frigid wind but didn't dare take the time to slow down to cast a warming spell. The moon broke through the clouds just as they passed the stands, lighting their way towards the gameskeeper's cottage.

They flew straight to the front steps of the cottage where lights shone through the windows, but there was no sign of movement inside. Poppy dropped her broom and raced up the steps, flinging open the door. "Harry? Draco?" she called out as Minerva hurried in behind her.

The wall sconces burned brightly, but there was no sign of the two men, other than an open bottle of whiskey and half-filled drinking glasses on the table, along with some playing cards. Poppy called out their names again but there was no response.

Seeing a chair overturned behind the table, Minerva hoped they hadn't been fighting again. There was no sign of them in the main room, but Minerva could feel the remnants of magic emanating from the bedroom. Silently she motioned towards the open bedroom door and Poppy nodded in agreement. They walked towards the bedroom, stopping in the doorway and peering in to the room.

There were no lights on, but moonlight was shining in through the windows, making it easy to see the outline of the still bodies on the bed. Poppy gave a gasp and started into the room, but Minerva swiftly reached out and grabbed her arm. It was obvious whatever Harry and Draco had been up to, it hadn't been fighting. Draco's naked body was stretched over Harry's, their legs entwined, and Draco's face buried into Harry's neck. Minerva felt her cheeks grow warm and she cursed her own missishness as she ran her eyes along the naked beauty of their bodies.

"They aren't sleeping - they're unconscious!" Poppy hissed at her.

"Wait."

Minerva thought she'd seen movement and as Poppy turned towards her to argue. Minerva saw Harry's arm move. "Look." She nodded towards the bed, where Harry's hand was moving slowly along Draco's back.

"It doesn't mean they don't need help." Poppy whispered back but she didn't argue any more as they watched Harry shift more beneath Draco. Draco hadn't yet shown any signs of movement and his body was pinning Harry to the mattress. In the dim light she could see that Harry's eyes were closed, but his eyelids flickered as he slowly regained consciousness.

She couldn't hold back a gasp of surprise when Harry lifted his right arm, and in the bluish moonlight the bondline stood out. Gone were the harsh red lines, in their places was a design of deep red circles, an intricate pattern that went from his wrist to halfway up his arm.

"Oh, Minerva!" Poppy whispered and Minerva reached out and clasped her hand as they watched Harry stroking Draco's back, his tanned right arm with the bondlines contrasting starkly against the paleness of Draco's skin. Draco gave a jerk, and arched against Harry. His blond hair fell back as he blindly lifted his head and kissed Harry's neck. Minerva heard Harry moan, as he turned towards Draco and they pressed their lips together, kisses so tender that Minerva felt a thrill in her stomach and she pressed her free hand against it.

Their eyes were still shut, and Minerva doubted that they were fully conscious, but it was obvious, as she saw Harry push up against Draco, that they were not in need of any type of assistance. Poppy gave a tug and together they retreated into the main room and out the front door. Minerva pulled the door quietly shut behind them and Poppy stood on the steps, fanning herself.

Minerva looked at her with a smile. "It seems that our worries were unfounded."

"As a healer, I must agree with your assessment. Did you see the bondmarks? So beautiful."

"I'll be interested to see those marks more closely." Minerva nodded in agreement. "At a more appropriate time."

"To be young again." Poppy gave a laugh. "I released the monitoring spell, I don't think there shall be any more need for it. I will come back first thing in the morning to make sure, but clearly they are fully bonded now."

Minerva lifted her eyebrow and looked back at the cottage and then to Poppy. "I think you would be better to time your visit for later in the day, Poppy, dear."

They looked at each other and burst out laughing. "Yes, I expect they will be sleeping in quite late. I'll plan my visit for the afternoon, and shall send an owl before arriving, to prevent any embarrassment." Still chuckling they mounted their brooms and flew back to the castle.

After locking the front doors and putting away the brooms, Minerva walked with Poppy through the darkened corridors of the castle, their footsteps echoing against the stone walls. In the distance she saw a ghost, Peeves, most likely, slipping through the closed doors of the Great Hall.

She couldn't stop thinking of the intimate scene they'd just witnessed, she was heartened to see that Harry and Draco had come together, at last. There were still rough times ahead for them, but if they faced the difficulties together, they would be all the stronger for it. Facing life's challenges alone was always more arduous, Minerva thought knowingly.

Poppy wished her good-night and turned to go up the stairs to the Hospital Wing. How many times over the years had they ended their nightly rounds the exact same way, Minerva wondered to herself, Poppy heading back to her rooms and Minerva to hers.

Biting her lip, she watched Poppy start up the steps, before she could stop herself she straightened her shoulders and called out, "Must you head straight to bed? Would you care to come to mine for a hot toddy? Flying in that cold night air has chilled me to the bones."

Poppy turned back, her eyes glittering as a smile filled her face, "Minerva, after a night like tonight, that sounds like the perfect prescription."


	12. Bondlines and Bilberries

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you are still following the story, thank you so much for your patience. This is another very long chapter. If everything goes as I have sketched out in my head I'm thinking there will be two more chapters of Firebond, after this one.

The sunlight filling the room woke Draco, bleary-eyed with sleep, it took him a minute to recognize that he wasn't alone in the bed: a warm body was pressed against him. Potter. Memories of the bonding, and everything that followed, came racing back to Draco.

Potter had his arm thrown over Draco's waist. Draco's own arm was trapped under Potter's body. Looking down to see if he could slide away without waking Potter, he saw Potter's right arm. The harsh red bondlines were gone from his wrist, in its place was an intricate tattoo of interwoven blackish-red circles, thin delicate lines that began at the joint and continued, with darker thicker lines as it moved up halfway up his forearm, the pattern partially obscured by Potter's arm hair.

Draco didn't bother being gentle as he pulled his arm out from under Potter. Draco sank back against the pillow and held up it up, twisting it to see all of the bondlines. The marks ran up the length of his forearm, almost completely obscuring the Dark Mark.

"Look at that," Draco turned to see Potter staring at Draco's arm. Potter held up his own arm and saw the matching lines for the first time. It seemed like the most natural thing in the world to press their arms together. Fingers wove together as they both took in the effect: the marks matched perfectly.

Potter traced his fingers along the lines that moved fluidly from Draco's arm to his and back. The marks showed up more boldly against Draco's paler skin, and Draco was glad for it, since it was all the better for hiding the ugly scars from the Dark Mark.

"There's no denying we're bonded now," Potter said, at last. Draco couldn't hold back his laugh as he turned to look at Potter, but it was hard meeting his eyes. Draco had never experienced anything like the night before…what they had done, Draco cheeks grew warm as he remembered how he'd abandoned all his concerns about the bond and had just let go.

Harry must've been thinking the same thing, because he lowered his arm and looked at Draco. "About last night…"

"Don't go Hufflepuff on me, Potter." Draco sat up and tried to pull away but Potter caught his arm and wouldn't let him leave the bed. The sheet fell back, revealing Potter's nakedness. Why couldn't Potter be pudgy and pasty? Draco had to force his eyes to look at Potter's face and not look at the dark thatch of chest hair that trailed towards abdominal muscles, and definitely didn't want to look at Potter's semi-hard cock that begged to be touched.

"We should talk about what…"

"Nothing to talk about...it worked. Weasley's plan worked. I'm sure he is going to cackle with glee. But the main thing about last night is that I am in desperate need of a shower." Or a bath, Draco yearned for a bath, to soak his aching body. He had aches and pains in places where he'd never hurt before. Potter didn't let go of his arm and Draco glared back at him.

"What?" He needed to get away, he needed to get everything sorted in his head and he couldn't think while in a bed with a naked Harry Potter. Potter opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted by a sound at the window. They both turned to see an owl tapping against the glass.

Giving a sigh of relief, Draco went to the window and pushed it open. Untying the note, he waved his hands at the owl to make it leave. "We don't have any treats, go away."

"Who's it from?"

"Who do you think? It has to be McGonagall." Draco became keenly aware of his own unclothed state as Potter came up behind him, so close that he could feel the heat radiating from Potter's body, the man was like a furnace. Willing his body to not show how it was affecting him, Draco undid the ribbon and held up the note so they could both read it. It wasn't from McGonagall, it was from Madam Pomfrey, announcing she'd be arriving at eleven o'clock to check on their health.

"Why is she coming?" Potter asked as he took the note from Draco.

"We're lucky that she didn't come last night."

"What do you mean?"

"The tracking spell. She said it would go off if we lost consciousness." Draco looked at Potter. "And we did."

"Oh, right. That would have been really awkward if she'd come last night."

"You think?" Draco crumpled up the paper. "The question is why didn't she?"

"Too much interference? There was a lot of magic flying around maybe the signal didn't get through it." Potter was still right next to him, he reached down and took Draco's hand so that their marks were pressed together again. There was no longer the restlessness and pain that they'd had when they weren't touching after the first half-bonding, but Draco could sense a comforting sensation each time they touched.

"Can you feel it? Our magic?" Draco had started to pull away but stopped at Potter's words. "Close your eyes, feel it" Potter prompted him again.

Draco closed his eyes and before he'd even taken two deep breaths he could sense a new pulse of magic flowing in his veins. It was completely different. It wasn't his magic, it wasn't even the battling threads of magic that he'd felt since the fight in the bathroom.

"That's us. It isn't my magic, and I don't think it is yours, is it?" Potter whispered. He was still holding on to Draco's arm and he started tracing the pattern with his fingers.

"No, it's nothing like what mine was like." Draco put his hand out to stop him, sure that Potter could feel the racing of his heartbeat through his skin. He closed his eyes again, wanting to study the characteristics of the new magic pulsing through him. The unique signature that had been a constant in his life for as long as he could remember, was gone, but he couldn't mourn its loss. What he'd experienced with Potter the night before, the power of the bonding coupled with the swirling sensations of magic and pleasure, was something he couldn't regret. He only hoped that Potter wouldn't rue the loss of his own individual magic too quickly.

"I know it isn't what you wanted, me either, but this is real and I can't deny it. I don't want to, and this feels good to me."

"All week my magic hasn't been quite right but now…"

"It feels right." Potter agreed with a nod. "Maybe that was part of the problem before, I was on edge all the time, like I'd had too much coffee and was wired. I thought it was just because…"

"Having to spend time with me?"

"Well, yeah, didn't you? But that edginess is gone now."

Potter looked like he would be happy to chat all day about the bond and magic, but Draco had to escape. He needed time to think and desperately needed to wash away the evidence from the night before. He stretched a little and gave a wince as his body reminded him of all that it had been through.

"All well and good, Potter, but if you don't mind, I need to go take my shower."

"Are you okay? " Potter looked at him with alarm. "I'm sorry…"

"I'm fine, Potter... I just want to get cleaned up."

"I hurt you, didn't I?"

"You'd be the same if you'd just had a log shoved up your arse," Draco muttered.

"A log?" Potter sounded amused as he slid his arms around Draco's waist. He felt warm, Draco thought, warm and naked, the bond was practically singing in his veins as Potter pulled Draco against him.

"Well, it sure as hell wasn't a twig," Draco muttered as he stood stiffly in the embrace, hating how good Harry felt against him.

"I probably didn't do it right, but it felt amazing to me, before you know the whole bond thing started and we blacked out."

"Which seems to be a recurring theme." Draco tried to push him away.

"How about we save water and take a shower together? Maybe we could think of a way I could make it up to you."

"What? No way." Horrified at the suggestion, Draco tried to push Potter away, but he couldn't.

"If I let you go in there alone, you are going to come out in a half-hour all shirty and block me out again." Potter's hands were on Draco's buttocks now and as Draco leaned back Potter pulled him closer, and his cock stiffened as it rubbed against Harry's very obvious erection.

"All shirty?"

"You, know, that high and mighty manner of yours. Sometimes I think you use it so that no one can see how you really feel. Last night was pretty good. Just think about how much better it will be when we actually know what we're doing." Draco gave a shiver as Potter ran his fingers along Draco's spine, feeling each vertebrae, while his thumb pressed and massaged his muscles.

"You managed to not bungle things up too badly, but I guarantee I'm not in any shape for a repeat performance at the moment." Draco flushed with embarrassment at having to mention his discomfort.

"I did hurt you-"

Draco shut his eyes in frustration. "Really, Potter. That is the least of my problems. In an hour, a seventy-year old witch is going to walk in the door and I'd really like it if I didn't look like I've just been fucked, even though she'll know the second she sees the bondmarks."

"I don't think she's anywhere near seventy," Potter said. "And there is no way she's going to know who did who, and she never will… but you do have a point, I'll get some breakfast and take a shower after you're done."

OOO

Draco braced his hands against the shower wall and let the hot water pound his back and buttocks. He hadn't lied to Potter, he did hurt, but it wasn't unbearable. Closing his eyes, he let the hot water soothe the ache.

Strange how when he'd been with Scott, he'd batted Scott's hands away whenever they'd strayed towards his arse, but last night Draco hadn't had any hesitation about letting Potter touch him. Draco had been nervous, they both had been, and the whiskey may have made it easier, but Draco had wanted it and knowing that the bond demanded was all he needed to push past all the worries about what might happen next.

Draco reached for the shampoo and began lathering his hair. The sight of the bondmark reminded him that Pomfrey was going to be at the cottage soon and she'd see the mark and know that the bond was complete. Would she make them move back to the castle? She might say that they didn't need to be isolated anymore.

Despite the hot water and steamy mist, Draco shivered: he wasn't ready to go back. It was okay being here, with Potter. He wasn't ready to walk into the Great Hall and having everyone stare and whisper. Potter would want to sit with his friends and Draco knew that all the Gryffindors must resent-blame-him for what happened to their hero.

OOO

Twenty minutes later Draco walked into the other room. Potter had set out breakfast on the table and Draco's stomach rumbled as he saw the pastries: he'd forgotten about the hamper of food that Weasley had brought the day before. Potter was wearing one of his Muggle t-shirts, the bondmark bold against his skin. Draco had put on a long-sleeved shirt to hide his own mark.

Potter turned away from the window as Draco walked into the room. "How are you? Are you okay?"

Draco knew Potter meant about the discomfort in his arse, but he chose to ignore him.

"I think that Pomfrey is going to make us go back to the castle."

"No, she won't, she can't. We're not ready to go back and they can't make us."

"They can. They can force us out by resetting the wards so we can't get into the cottage." Draco tried to keep the worry out of his voice.

"Then we leave. We don't have to be here. We can go somewhere else."

"You can, I can't. I still have to finish my probation."

"Shite. Forgot about that, so, we have to stay, but here I don't want to go to the castle."

"You can still go, we are fully bonded, I doubt the bond will cause problems-"

"You really think I would leave you here?"

"You could. Can. If you want to go." Draco turned and went over to the table where the hedgehog teapot sat ready. The pot's quills bristled as he poured himself a mug of tea. "You can do whatever you want now."

He lifted the mug to his lips but Potter came up behind him, wrapping his arms around him and Draco almost spilt tea on himself and Potter.

"What-"

"I know I was angry at first, about the bond. We both were, but I'm not going to walk away, even if the bond is settled and doesn't act like it did before." Potter rested his chin on Draco's shoulder, and Draco could feel the soft brush of Potter's hair against his neck. "And I'm definitely not ready to face everyone at the castle. We are staying here. If Pomfrey gives us a hard time, I'll find a way to make sure we can stay."

"Of course, they'll do whatever the Saviour wants," Draco knew he sounded bitter but didn't care.

"I told you that you would get shirty after your shower." Potter kissed him. Draco stood still, holding his damn mug of tea, as Potter's lips roamed along the nape of his neck to his ear. He shut his eyes against the need to turn in Potter's arms. The knock on the door saved him from the temptation.

OOO

The interview with Pomfrey was every bit as embarrassing as Draco had anticipated. She had bustled into the room saying that her monitoring charm had failed and that she needed to make sure they were okay. To Draco's surprise she'd just nodded approvingly when she saw their new bondmarks and didn't ask any questions about when they'd appeared.

At her direction they'd stood next to each other as she cast the spell to reveal the bondstream, and she gave a pleased hum as the spell revealed the magic flowing between their bondmarks. She had them walk to opposite sides of the room and the stream of magic never wavered. "Excellent! I have no doubt that one of you could go all the way to the castle without any harm to the other."

"We don't want to go back to the castle, not yet, at least." Potter had said quickly.

"Of course not! I meant that just as an example. Even though the bond is stable, you still have a lot to get accustomed to, although I must say that I'm pleased with what I've seen so far." At that point Pomfrey had blushed and dropped her wand. "What I mean to say, is you have a long history it won't be easy to adjust. Professor McGonagall and I were discussing your situation last night and we think you would benefit from staying here for the time being. I am going to lighten the wards on the cottage. Allowing you to leave the restricted area, and your friends to visit, if you choose."

"What about using magic? George told us we shouldn't, until the bond was completed, now that it is can we use it?"

Pomfrey pursed her lips as she put away her wand. "I understand that you two miss it, but I think it best to wait a few more days. Since your bonding got off to a rough start, it would be best to take it easy and take it slowly. Perhaps when Mr. Weasley next visits, you can try it."

"That's six days away!" Draco exclaimed.

"Yes, but we don't want any accidents, I think it would be best not take a chance."

Draco was going to argue more, but Potter put his hand on Draco's arm to stop him. "If you think that is best," he said, giving Draco a wink when the witch wasn't looking. "We were just about to have breakfast, would you like to join us?"

Pomfrey sat down with them at the table, not commenting that it was past the noon hour. "I don't anticipate that there will be any more difficulties like you experienced when the bond was only half formed. Clearly the problems you had since the partial bonding was because it needed you to achieve completion." Potter's eyes had widened when she'd said 'completion' and Draco had had to cough into his hand to cover his laughter.

_Completion_ had definitely been achieved.

"Draco, we thought that you might use this time to perform your service hours. I've a list here of tasks, the most important being the collecting of bilberries. They must be collected at dawn after the first full moon after the first hard frost. We've had frosts these last few mornings and the next full moon is in two days. You'll find them at the edge of the forest, behind the cottage."

They'd both given a sigh of relief when the spry nurse finally left. Harry had seen her to the door and after closing it, leaned back against it. "See that didn't go so badly."

"She didn't seem at all surprised by the bonding," Draco said, remembering back at her matter-of-fact examining of both their arms. "She seemed happy about it but it is as though she already knew that it had happened."

"At least she took the charm off, who knows what kind of information it was transmitting to her. Maybe that's how she knew; maybe it didn't fail like she said." Potter shrugged and walked towards Draco. "Doesn't matter. We get to stay here and don't have to worry about going to the castle yet."

"But we'll be over-run with Gryffindors now." Draco scowled and started to clear the breakfast plates.

"What? No. We have to invite them, they can't just wander down here. I don't think either of us are ready for that."

"You must be itching to have Weasley and Granger down here for a chat, tell them everything."

Potter blocked him from walking towards the kitchen. "You don't get it, do you? I'm not going to invite Ron and Hermione here without consulting with you, and I'm definitely not going to tell them everything."

"You've never kept secrets from them before, why start now?"

"Because this," Potter motioned with his hands between them, "isn't about them, it's about us, you and me. And it isn't keeping secrets: it is about keeping the private side of our relationship, private."

Relationship. Draco stared at him blankly. How could he call what they had a relationship? Draco considered arguing but decided it wasn't worth the time, Potter would soon miss his real friends and leave Draco behind. He walked to the sink and set down the plates. Potter followed with the mugs. They worked side by side, their shoulders brushing together as Draco scrubbed the dishes and Harry dried them. Draco wished his father was alive just so that he could see the horror on his Father's face: his son doing the washing up with Harry Potter.

It didn't take long to do the few plates and mugs. Potter picked up the last pastry and ate it, leaning against the worksurface, with his mouthful he mumbled, "Doyouwanna-"

"Do I want to hear you trying to talk with a mouth full of food? No, but I would like to get outside. I thought maybe we could go and locate the bilberry patches, so that we aren't fumbling around in the dark two days from now, looking for them."

Potter grinned at him, a bit of pastry stuck to the corner of his mouth as he swallowed down the last of the pastry. "That is what I was going to say."

Draco found it difficult to resist the temptation to kiss away that little bit of frosting, instead he handed Harry a serviette. "Wipe your mouth." Potter used his tongue to locate the bit of sweet and grinned at Draco.

"I'll go get a sweater."

It was a beautiful autumn day, their footsteps rustled in the dried leaves that had already fallen from the trees. They walked as they'd done ever since leaving the Hospital Wing, Potter on Draco's left so that their bondmarks would be closer together, it struck Draco odd how quickly they'd adapted to this new way of life.

"I remember seeing a patch of berries when I was out here helping Hagrid a couple of years ago, I think they were bilberries. Funny, he and I must've walked right past the cottage and I didn't have any idea it was here."

Draco nodded, he looked over his shoulder at where their classmates were out enjoying the afternoon sunshine, walking on the path around the lake or lying on the green grass. He knew that the Gryffindors must be amongst them, but Potter hadn't even looked towards the castle.

Despite Harry's protests to the contrary, Draco knew that it wouldn't be long until Potter would miss his friends, but he didn't want them in the cottage. They'd only been there two days but he already considered it just theirs, not to be shared anyone else. The visits from George Weasley and Pomfrey visits were already too many people intruding on them.

Potter was looking down at his feet, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. Draco wondered if he was thinking about the night before. Potter had wanted to talk this morning about what had happened. What if he didn't want to continue having sex, now that the bond had been satisfied? There were plenty of other wizards who would offer themselves to the "Boy Who Lived" and who didn't have a Dark Mark on their arm. Potter had seemed eager enough this morning though, so maybe they would continue on for now, but Potter certainly wouldn't want to after they have to move back to the castle. Draco didn't know how he'd be able to handle seeing him go off with someone else.

Draco was brought back to the present by a hand on his arm.

"Don't worry so much."

"What?"

"I can feel that you're worrying about something." Potter ran his hand down Draco's left arm.

"I'm not-"

Potter kissed him.

Draco stood frozen as Potter pressed against him, and his hand slipped behind Draco's head, his fingers sinking into Draco's hair. His lips caught Draco's lower lip between his own. It was like the first kiss they'd shared the night before. Not the needy, lust-filled ones that had come later.

Potter's hand was touching Draco's throat and Draco knew that Potter's fingers could feel the rapid beat of his pulse. Draco gave into the kiss and he heard Potter's moan of appreciation, Potter's lips trembled as Draco started to kiss him back.

They stood there kissing at the edge of the forest, the wind sending gusts of leaves swirling around them. He could hear thrushes in a nearby bush, rustling and chirping as Potter slipped his hands under Draco's sweater, cold against Draco's heated skin. Draco gave a shiver as Potter deepened the kiss, and it was Draco's turn to groan as Potter pressed against him. He ran his hands down Potter's back, wanting to, needing to, touch his skin, Draco's fingers skimmed along the waistband of Potter's jeans. Draco marveled at how one person could feel so perfect against another when an overwhelming sense of happiness came over him, just as Potter started to kiss Draco's neck, nibbling him along his jaw.

Draco pulled back in surprise as he realized that the sensation was coming from Potter. "You're happy," he said to him. "You're feeling happy."

Potter blinked in surprise as he looked at Draco, his lips red and plump from their kisses, his glasses slightly steamed up. "Uhm, yeah, I am." He leaned towards him again, lips pursed but Draco put his hand on Potter's chest, holding him back.

"How can you possibly be happy about all this?"

"I, dunno, I just am...it all seems okay now. We don't have to worry about the bond anymore, it's a gorgeous day and I wanted to kiss you and I did. Oh, and I had sex." Potter blushed as he said it. "And I'm really kind of hoping we can have some more."

"But…" Words failed Draco as Potter slid his right hand along Draco's left arm, the bond fairly hummed at the contact between them, even through the thickness of Draco's sweater.

"This is both really different for us, but I can't imagine someone better to be bonded to."

"You'd be better off not being bonded."

Potter opened his mouth and then shut it, his lips forming a grim line as he pressed them together, but he didn't stop holding onto Draco's arm. Draco stared down at the ground, knowing that it was the truth but there was nothing either of them could do about it.

"Draco...there is little in my life that I've ever had control of, but this time I can finally think that this happening is a good thing, not bad."

"Not bad! You are bonded for life to me."

"Sure but that isn't terrible. If I'd ended up permanently-bonded to Voldemort, that would've been terrible. Or I don't know, Greyback." Draco couldn't hold back the shudder. "But this is you and me. I _know_ you, and I'm getting to know you better."

"You never would've wanted to have talk to me, let alone have sex with me, if it weren't for the bond."

Potter's lips quirked into a smile and he gave a half shrug. "That isn't exactly true, you know."

"What, you would've been willing to talk to me?" Draco scoffed disbelievingly.

"Maybe not, but if we are being perfectly honest with each other, I did always think you looked pretty good in your robes."

"What?"

"And, I liked the way you'd frown while you were sitting studying in the library. Hermione would have to kick me to get me to focus on my revising. And I hated you for it, of course," Potter's blush returned full force to his cheeks as Draco looked at him in disbelief. "And then there was how you could make your robes swoosh like Snape's."

"I don't believe you," Draco said, his own face getting warm as he remembered how he'd practiced swishing his robes during fifth year. "You and I? We are asphodel and wartcap."

Potter looked at him blankly and Draco groaned, "You really need to learn your potion ingredients, Potter. We're opposites."

"I know, but that doesn't have to be bad, does it? You know everything and I like going full-steam ahead. We balance each other." Potter took a step closer and slid his hands into Draco's back pockets, pulling their groins together. "We got off to a rocky start but we're doing okay now."

"We almost died!"

"But we didn't." Potter gave another shrug, "Like I said last night, we can fight this or we can go with it. I'd be lying if I didn't say I'd always wanted to see what was under your robes. And I want to just go with it."

"You want sex," Draco said, trying to figure out what Harry was after.

"Hell, yeah. Especially after last night." Harry cocked his head. "What about you? Hermione said that the bond was probably making us notice each other long before we bonded. I know I wanted you long before we bonded. Did you ever notice me while you were, you know, hating me."

Potter's green eyes were piercing and Draco had to look away in order to answer truthfully. "I may have noticed that you weren't terrible on the eyes."

"Oh?" Harry gave a squeeze of Draco's buttocks, causing the trouser material to pull even tighter. "Not terrible?"

"I _may_ have thought that you looked fit in your Quidditch robes." He'd wanked to the thoughts of Potter on his Nimbus 2000, but there was no reason to mention _that_.

"See that's what I think: the bond knows us, what we wanted. I'd never would've gotten the nerve to approach you, but it took care of that for us. We know the worst of each other. Hell, we did the worst _to_ each other." Potter's hand slipped around under Draco's sweater, his touch cool against Draco's heated skin, he pressed his hand against the scars on Draco's chest. "We can do this."

Draco stepped back, pushing Potter's hand away. "All I want to do right now is find out where the bilberries are so that we don't have to stumble around in the dark tomorrow morning and then go back to the cottage so that I can send an owl to my mother. I'm sure she is anxious to hear from me."

"Draco-"

Draco turned away and started walking along the edge of the forest, forcing himself to search for the low-lying bilberry shrubs and not turning around to see what Potter was doing. He wouldn't-couldn't-let Potter give him hope, if there's one thing he learned in the past three years, if he dared to hope, life would find a way to not only deny him, but crush them. He pressed his right hand against the Dark Mark. It may be masked by the bondmark, but it was still there and would never go away.

OOO

A drop of ink gathered at the tip of his quill and Draco carefully blotted it on the blotting paper before smoothing out the parchment. He'd done the easy part, describing the cottage and assuring her that he had plenty to eat, he hadn't mentioned the hamper of food from Molly Weasley lest his mother think that she should provide more. Now he had to write the most difficult part - it was likely that McGonagall or Pomfrey would have already informed her that the bond was complete, but even so she would want to hear it from him.

Draco rolled the quill between his fingers, careful to not spatter ink on the letter, his fingers were stained already, not from ink but from the berries they had gathered. After their talk he and Potter had found the patch, one so large that there would be no difficulty collecting enough berries the night of the full moon. The frosts had already caused the berries to shrivel and Draco had doubted they would taste good but Potter had tried one and declared it perfect and had the audacity to laugh when Draco had refused to eat one himself. Potter had continued to chide him until Draco agreed to help carry back enough berries.

Potter was in the kitchen area now. He was standing at the cooker stirring something in a saucepan, a white kitchen towel tossed over his shoulder. With Potter's back to him, Draco could safely watch Potter, he was tapping his foot - Potter always seemed to need to be in motion, he could never simply be still.

Draco had both loved and hated it in Potions class: Potter's constant fidgeting whilst standing at the lab tables always seemed to draw his eyes down to Potter's backside, even hidden by robes. Now it was a thousand times more arousing, in his Muggle jeans that cupped his arse perfectly, and now that he knew exactly how good it felt to stroke his skin, knowing the moan that Potter would make if he were to rut against Draco, and the breathy gasps he forced out of Draco when he sucked and kissed Draco's neck.

Fuck.

Focus. Draco tried to pull his mind away from Potter's arse and back to the task at hand, but nothing in his upbringing told him how to tell his mother that he'd been fucked by Harry Potter and was thus truly bonded to him for life. After much fidgeting he dipped his quill into the ink, carefully blotted it, and wrote in precise penmanship:

_When we last spoke, you said that I must accept this fate. I am trying, but it is difficult. Potter and I have not, yet, come to blows, and now that we are removed from the castle there is much less interference from others, which helps considerably._

_Regardless of whether I, or Potter, accept that we are bondmates is not relevant at this point: the bond is complete. I shall include a sketch of the new bondlines in a later letter, if it is of interest to you._

He ended the letter with a few token promises to not let his studies suffer even though he wasn't in class and signed his name. After cleaning the quill nib and stoppering his ink pot, he rolled the letter carefully and tied it with a green ribbon. There was a sweet, fruity smell in the air that reminded Draco of the desserts that the house elves would make for the autumnal equinox. He looked over to he looked over at Harry who was stirring something in a pot on the cooker.

That Potter could cook, was actually comfortable in the kitchen, had surprised Draco, given that the git couldn't follow the simplest set of instructions in a potions book. Potter had said the day before it was because his aunt had taught him how to cook. No, that wasn't it, Potter had said he had _had_ to cook. That he'd been responsible for making the family meals before he'd even been old enough to go to Hogwarts.

For the first time Draco wondered about Potter's relatives, what they were like. He'd seen them from a distance at the King's Cross. At the time he'd only marveled how insignificant and puny Potter had looked next to the blustering fat oaf of a man that must've been his uncle. The man's moustache had seemed to be a magical being, the way it would twitch whilst the man's face would grow bright red with rage when Potter's trunk would fall off the trolley. It had given Draco a great deal of satisfaction at the time, thinking of Potter having to be under the man's thumb all summer long but now he wondered.

"Try this…"

Draco gave a jerk as he realized that Potter was standing right next to him, holding out a spoon.

"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you. Give this a try."

Draco looked at the dark purple pool gelled on the spoon. "What is it?"

"Poison. Really, Draco, what do you think it is? I cooked down the berries with honey, made them into a sauce."

Draco reached to take the spoon from him but Potter pulled it away, a half-smile on his lips as he held it in front of Draco's lips.

Draco closed his eyes, so that he wouldn't have to look at Potter this close, and opened his lips and the spoon touched his lips. He obediently licked the spoon and his mouth filled with the sweet taste of berries.

"What is that?" Draco asked, wishing that Potter had brought him more than just a spoonful.

"I told you. The bilberries. I thought we could have this on top of the ice cream." Draco licked his lips to make sure he'd gotten it all, Potter's hand faltered a little as he set the spoon on the table. "Erm, you liked it?"

"It's delicious, how did you make it without a recipe?"

Potter gave a shrug. "Sauces are pretty easy, I simmered the berries with honey and some apple slices, to balance the flavor, since the bilberries were past their prime." Potter sat on the edge of the table in front of Draco, and Draco had resist the need to scoot his chair back. Potter was too close for comfort.

"Supper will be in about an hour. I'm heating up the shepherd's pie. Did you finish the letter for your mum?"

Draco nodded, towards the scroll on the table. "Obviously."

Potter looked over at it. "Did you tell her…"

"No more than what she needs to know, really Potter; she's my _mother_." Draco rolled his eyes.

"Are you going to write to the Weasleys? Let them know?"

"Oh, I suppose I'd better write to Molly and have to say something. She'll be worrying even if George told her that I'm okay." Potter picked up Draco's quill and started running it through his fingers.

"She is very protective of you." Draco commented as he tried to not wince as Potter's fingers ruined the lay of the fine barbs on the quill. He hated writing with a ruffled quill.

Potter pursed his lips as he nodded. "She is. Gets a bit much to be honest, not used to it."

"Not used to…?"

"Hovering. You know, like she was doing at the hospital wing. I mean it's nice that she cares but..." He shrugged and set down the quill. "I'm not used to people doing that."

"Doing what? Caring?"

"Yeah, I guess. She cares...I guess you could say she loves me. She even asked me to call her mum…the thing is...I couldn't, it just wasn't right. She isn't my mum, I think she is terrific and all that, but I couldn't call her mum. So after a few awkward weeks where I avoided calling her anything, she told me it would be okay to call her Molly instead, but I think I hurt her feelings by not being able to call her mum, and she backed off a bit with all the hugs like she gives Ron and the rest, but I felt-feel bad about it, but then in the Hospital Wing, I think it set off her mum-instincts again. She is really protective of me, like she is with all her children."

"I'd think it would be nice, to have someone to worry over you like that."

"You wouldn't understand, you have your mum." Potter gave Draco's letter a nudge with the quill. "It isn't the same, Ron and Hermione, don't get it either. They love the hugs and...and the hovering."

Draco opened his mouth to object but he remembered the expression on Potter's face in the Hospital Wing when his mother had been talking to Draco and Harry had been pretending to study. The bond had immediately started hurting as Narcissa had put her arm around Draco.

Maybe it wasn't the smothering that Potter objected to, but that he had no family of his own to smother him. Draco had only had his mother, Lucius Malfoy had never shown him any overt affection, but t least he had her.

Potter did have family though, his aunt and uncle. Why hadn't they come to Hogwarts after the bonding, when he was in mortal danger? They'd been completely absent this whole time. Draco knew the Weasleys had been in the Hospital Wing because Potter had flown to George Weasley's house after they first bonded, but there'd been no mention discussion about Potter's only relatives being informed.

"Will you write to your aunt and uncle, tell them what is going on?"

"No point in that." Potter scoffed and started to stand up but Draco put his legs on either side of him, blocking him against the table.

"Why not?"

"None of your busi…" Potter stopped short and looked at Draco. "Fuck. I suppose it is."

"What is?"

"I was going to say it was none of your business but I suppose it is, not that you'll ever have the displeasure of meeting them."

"They're your only family."

"Not that they would ever want to acknowledge it." Potter was gripping the edge of table so hard that the white was showing in his knuckles. "I had to live with them for sixteen years, and I'll be happy if I never set eyes on them again."

"Tell me why."

"You've heard the rumors, you must've done. They've been printed up in the Prophet ever since May."

"That which could be considered factual and accurate in the Daily Prophet is limited to the date printed on the masthead and little else." Draco didn't want to even consider what the Prophet was printing about them.

Potter laughed. "They print lies and innuendos, but there is always some grain of truth to it. The problem is you never know what is the truth and what is the lie."

"And what is the truth about your aunt and uncle?" Draco strained to remember what he'd seen in the headlines. They'd ranged from Potter being beaten daily to being locked in a room and never let allowed to see the sun.

"Can we… can we sit down on the sofa? I think…this could take a while." Potter was pale and Draco could feel tremors of tension through the bond.

"We don't have to-"

"No. You've told me about your father, what he did, it's only fair I tell you about them." Draco gave Potter a double-take, could Potter's relatives be as bad as Lucius?

They went over to the sofa. Potter sat down and almost immediately stood up and paced over to the fireplace. He leaned against the mantle, his hands clenched.

"You've seen my uncle, you must've done at some point, at King's Cross." Draco nodded. "He hated magic and hated me all the more because of it. My aunt did, too, but my uncle even more."

Potter was hesitant at first but he started to tell Draco what it had been like living with Petunia and Vernon Dursley. That the rumors that he'd been locked in a cupboard - and later a room - were true. And even worse, how he'd often been denied food as punishment.

"But it was abuse, surely other Muggles must've noticed-"

"I had a teacher once, at primary school, she contacted social services after she saw some bruises on my arm. It didn't do any good. They lied and bluffed their way through the visit from the social worker. And I was locked in my cupboards for a week with nothing to eat but food scraps that even a dog wouldn't see fit to eat."

Potter was sitting on the edge of the sofa, his elbows resting on his knees as he stared down at the floor. His shoulders were hunched, and he looked beaten down by the memories. Draco reached over, hesitantly, and rested his hand on Potter's lower back, not sure if Potter would welcome the touch or not, but Draco _needed_ to touch him. He could feel the bumps of his spine, the warmth of his skin through his shirt. Potter gave a sigh and, to Draco's surprise, turned and lay down on his side, resting his head on Draco's lap, staring out at the room.

Draco's left hand hovered for a moment where it had been, as he looked down at Potter. Potter's right arm that was resting curled up next to his stomach, and Draco lowered his arm so that their bondlines were touching and Potter gave a contented sigh as their fingers wove together.

Draco struggled to find the thread of what they'd been talking about, "Why didn't Dumbledore…someone…step in to help you?"

Potter yawned. "I never told him, and even if I had, I don't think he would've done anything. Dumbledore believed that I was protected from Voldemort by living with my mother's sister. He insisted I return every summer. He must've known what it was like, there was a neighbour who turned out to be a squib, she was supposed to be keeping an eye on me."

Draco snorted at that, what good would a squib be against his beast of an uncle?

Potter's eyes were closed, and Draco hoped there weren't any more horrors to be confessed. Beneath their joined arms he could feel the strong, racing beat of his heart. Draco stroked Potter's head with his free hand, running his fingers through the curly soft hair, needing to give comfort, and words could never be enough. Gradually the steady pulse of Potter's heart slowed and his breaths evened out as he fell asleep.

Draco brushed the fringe away from Har- _Potter_ 's face, the tension lines around his eyes had eased as he relaxed in sleep. He hadn't shaved that morning and the dark stubble rasped against Draco's thumb.

It was obvious why Potter hadn't wanted to tell Draco about his aunt and uncle, and Draco couldn't blame him: he'd been little more than a house elf to them. How he'd been treated explained a lot about Potter and how he'd been when they started school And Draco had been merciless - he'd never missed an opportunity to ridicule Potter for his ill-fitting clothes and scrawny appearance.

Potter still looked like an abandoned orphan, Draco thought, taking in the worn hem of his shirt down to his feet where his big toe was actually sticking out through a hole in his sock. Draco was sure that even if his twelve-year old self had known how Potter was being treated, he would have used the knowledge to make Potter more miserable.

It was the smells coming from the oven that reluctantly made Draco aware that he'd have to wake Potter, but he looked so peaceful that it didn't seem fair to wake him. Draco looked around and spotted the tufted throw pillow at the edge of the sofa, he grabbed it and cautiously lifted Potter's head so that he could slide out from underneath and slipped the pillow under his head. Potter's hand tightened around his arm and Draco had to use his other hand to gently free himself.

Walking to the kitchen he opened the door to the oven and was immediately forced back by a wave of heat. Peering in a little more cautiously, Draco saw that the shepherd's pie was bubbling over, brown streaks down the sides of the dish. Grabbing the tea towels he gingerly pulled it out, and set it down on one of the burners. It looked done, maybe too much so. The tops of the potatoes were crusted brown, and it was black around the edges where the gravy was still bubbling. The rich aroma of meat and gravy made his mouth salivate and he hoped that it wasn't too burnt.

"Sorry. Guess I fell asleep." Potter come up behind him and Draco sucked in his breath as Potter rested his hand against the small of Draco's back as he looked at the pie. "Damn. It's a little overcooked."

Draco could feel the warm press of Potter's fingers through the thin fabric of his shirt and couldn't help the reflexive tightening of his groin at the simple touch. "Is it still edible?"

"We can scrape off the burned part on top." Potter moved over to lean against the worksurface and Draco immediately missed the touch of his hand. "Uhm. Thanks for listening to all that, I don't know where the need to have to tell you came from but I-"

"I'm glad you did," Draco said, not wanting Potter to be embarrassed by what he'd revealed. He had a red crease on the left side of his face where it had been pressed against Draco's lap and his hair was a mess, that it was as much because of Draco's fingers running through it than its usual tousled state made his stomach do a flip.

"I was thinking…do you think...I wanted to..." Potter's mouth twisted in a grimace. Draco waited, hoping that he didn't have any other horror stories to reveal.

"What?" Draco asked impatiently.

"When we were in the hospital wing, your mum asked me to call her Narcissa, because we were family now, or close to it." Potter looked at Draco, his green eyes bright with emotion.

"She did?" A lump formed in Draco's throat as he thought about his mother making that gesture, knowing how she must've worried that it would be rejected.

"She was very nice, and not angry at all about what had happened because I left, and, while I was really glad she hadn't gone so far as to ask me to call her mum or anything like that, like Mrs Weasley, had, I still thought it was amazingly kind of her to make that kind of gesture..."

"She didn't tell me anything about it."

Potter nodded. "I didn't think so and I didn't want to do it in front of you in case you got mad or got the wrong idea, but I thought I could maybe write her my own note to her... I think she might like that, but if you mind then I won't."

The lump in Draco's throat grew larger and he found it hard to swallow. The offer was completely unexpected. That Potter would think to do something like that for his mother, after all the Malfoy family had put him through. And his mother...she was the bravest, strongest person he knew, and now, after years of living in fear, her world was reduced to the flat that she'd purchased this summer. She maintained a brave front, Draco knew he did it for him. Ever since they'd been released after the trial, she'd worried about what would happen to them because of all the hate being directed towards the families that supported the Dark Lord. And Potter was offering to write to her.

"I don't have to - I didn't mean to upset you." Potter's hands fell away and he was looking at Draco with concern. "I won't-"

"No. I mean yes, you didn't… I'm not..."

To stop himself from babbling, and because he had to, Draco kissed him. He needed to show Potter what the offer meant to him. Potter stood perfectly still as Draco's hand gripped the back of his head, and he pressed Harry against the worksurface and Potter started kissing him back, tentatively at first and then Harry's arms were around him pulling him closer.

Memories of the night before flashed through Draco's mind as the kisses intensified, no matter what else - and he released all the pent-up frustration he'd been holding back. Potter ran his lips along Draco's jaw as Draco slipped his hand beneath Potter's shirt, feeling the smooth skin of Potter's back, and gliding along the knobby bumps of his spine.

It was a loud gurgling growl that stopped them. Potter laughed, his lips tickling Draco's neck. "Was that your stomach or mine?"

"Yours. Malfoy stomachs wouldn't be that crass," Draco said as he stepped back, straightening Potter's shirt as he did.

"Guess we should eat then…" Potter didn't finish his sentence, turning away he picked up a large serving spoon. Potter plated the shepherd's pie with fresh greens and a hunk of cheddar on the side. They ate on the sofa. Draco sat with the plate carefully balanced on his lap whilst Potter sprawled back against opposite arm rest, holding his plate against his stomach and his legs stretched out so they encroached on Draco's space.

Draco glared down at Potter's feet that were mere inches away from his plate. "Do you mind?"

"Nope, not at all." Potter gave him a grin as he shoveled a forkful of food into his mouth.

"You do know your sock has a hole in it, don't you?"

"Yup."

Draco lifted up his plate and drew up his knees, prompting Potter to stretch out his legs until his feet were tucked under Draco. Draco ignored him and kept eating. The meal was delicious, he had to resist the temptation to lick his plate clean. "No wonder all the Weasleys look disgustingly healthy, their mother can cook."

"Molly knows what she is doing in the kitchen, alright." Potter took Draco's plate and went back to the kitchen. "Don't forget there is still dessert."

Dessert. The warm bilberry sauce was melting the vanilla ice cream creating a purple pool in his bowl, but Draco was in no hurry to eat it as he watched Har-fuck!-Potter licking both sides of his own spoon, savoring each lick of the confection. Only when _Potter_ 's own dish was empty did he look over at Draco's bowl and frowned. "Didn't you like it?"

"I did-I do." Draco took a spoonful of his melted ice cream to prove his point. The tartness of the sauce that Potter had made was the perfect compliment to the smooth creamy goodness of the ice cream. Draco deliberately licked his lips with his tongue: having watched Potter do it endless times in the last five minutes, the git deserved a little payback. He took another spoonful and as he was lifting the spoon to his mouth Potter's hand closed over his own.

"I just had a thought-"

"No." Draco shook his head vigorously as he pushed away Potter's hand.

"I didn't even say-"

"You were going to suggest taking the sauce into the bedroom. Not happening. Do you have any idea how stained my skin would be if you dribbled your sauce on it." Draco knew because he'd been thinking about the same thing for the past ten minutes. His fingers were still stained from picking the damn berries.

Potter's lips quirked. "Dribbled?"

"Don't deny it. I saw the look in your eye."

Potter reached over with his spoon and scooped up some of Draco's ice cream. "What if I'm very, very careful?"

"No. I have no plans to be turned purple just to satisfy your perversions."

"What if you're not the one who's purple?" Potter waggled his eyebrows.

OOO

Draco collapsed back against his pillow, every nerve in his body humming with spent satisfaction, his limbs were limp. He was sure he'd never be able to leave the bed. The mattress shifted as Harry stretched his arms over his head and turned on his side facing Draco. Draco didn't protest when Harry pressed the length of his sticky, naked body against Draco. And he was _Harry_. Draco couldn't deny that he couldn't think of him as Potter anymore. Potter was the git from the past. Harry was the man with whom he shared a bed, ate meals with, and, sweet Merlin, whose cock he'd just licked and sucked for dessert.

"Told you it would be good." Harry sounded smug, but Draco was willing to concede that he'd earned it.

"Getting sucked off is always good." Draco turned his head to look at him. "And now you've got purple cock." A good portion of Harry's chest and stomach were also stained purple-Draco had drizzled and licked the berry sauce and ice cream off him with abandon.

Harry grinned."You can hardly talk - you've got a purple tongue and lips."

Their mouths were only inches apart, it really didn't take much effort to shut him up. Draco found it easy to forget about all the reasons they shouldn't, when they were like this. It was languid, lazy kissing. The taste of bilberries and come made Draco's cock twitch with need. Harry's hands tightened around Draco's waist. He'd have been happy to spend the whole night like this but Draco could feel the sticky drying residue of ice cream.

"Hmmmm. We..should…take…a shower," Harry peppered his words with kisses as he slipped his leg between Draco's and even though Draco was sure he wouldn't be able to get hard again any time soon, his cock was of a different opinion. Harry pulled back to see Draco properly and Draco could only hope that his own lips weren't as purple. "We are pretty sticky. Will you let me shower with you this time?"

"I like the water hot; if you can't take it, too bad."

Harry could take it, and then some, as he stood under the beating spray and steam and didn't protest as Draco scrubbed at his face and stomach with a flannel to try to remove as much of the purple as possible. When it was Draco's turn, Harry rubbed the flannel in gentle circles, slowly working his way down Draco's back. Draco was hard before Harry reached the base of his spine.

Determined not to turn around, and let Harry see how affected he was, Draco picked up the shampoo and squeezed a dollop into the palm of his hand. He lathered his hair, the scent of the lemon filling the shower stall. Harry's hands, slick with soap, reached around his waist clasped Draco's cock. Draco closed his eyes as Harry pressed his erection against Draco and Harry started to stroke Draco's cock.

"I can't believe how fucking horny we are, I can't get enough of you."

"Probably the bond still." Draco had to put his hands against the shower wall as Harry's hand sent his body into a paroxysm of need, and he thrust forward into Harry's fist.

"You are gorgeous. You should see yourself like this, all wet and delicious." Harry leaned against him and kissed the nape of Draco's neck as his fingers slipped along Draco's arse. "Fuck. We need lube."

They hadn't needed it in the bedroom when they'd sucked each other off, but it didn't matter Draco wanted Harry inside him again. "Skip it."

"No. I don't want to hurt you."

"It'll be okay-dammit, Potter," Draco was talking to a cold rush of air as Harry slid the shower door open and left. He turned up the temperature on the water and rinsed the shampoo out of his hair. He leaned against the wall, shivering at the cold tiles as he closed his eyes and closed his fist around his cock, giving it a wank as he waited.

The door slid open and Harry was back, goosebumps covering his wet, naked flesh as he grinned at Draco, holding up the jar of lube.

"Where were we?" he asked, his eyes traveling down Draco's body. Fighting the urge to retreat, Draco made a show of cupping his balls with his right hand, thrusting his hips out just a bit as he massaged his balls, stroking his cock with his other hand.

"You tell me," Draco said, as nonchalantly as he could manage. "That stuff isn't waterproof, you know."

"I think we can manage." Harry opened the jar and set it on the shelf next to the shampoo. The shower spray was to Harry's back, sending streams of water down Harry's chest with rivulets through his chest hair, making the pink scar on his chest left by the Dark Lord's curse stand out. Draco wished he could erase the imperfection, the reminder at how close he'd come to losing his bondmate before ever knowing him.

Harry closed the distance between them, his hand cradling the back of Draco's neck as he kissed him. With Harry's cock pressed against his own, Draco found it easy enough to shift his grip so that he was stroking two cocks instead of just one.

Harry growled against his lips "Don't make me come. I want-"

Knowing what they both wanted Draco pushed Harry away and turned, bracing himself with his elbows against the wall. "You seem to be more talk than action, Potter."

"Oh fuck, Draco." Harry's hands ran down his arse and Draco gave a shudder as Harry's finger teased at his opening, his finger slick with lube. Harry's touch combined with the steam and heat of the shower making Draco's chest tightened and he couldn't wait any longer, he needed Harry.

"Are you sure you aren't too sore from last night?" Harry said into his ear, even as he pushed his finger farther in. Draco thrust back against it, loving it but needing more.

"Fuck yes. I told you already, just do it -" Draco broke off as Harry's cock, slowly pushed in. There was a burning stretch of pain, and he fought to relax against the pressure. Harry's hands ran up Draco's arms as Harry waited for him to stretch and adjust.

"You were saying?"

Draco cursed as Harry pressed in farther. This time there were no flashing lights or magical aura, just the two of them, joined together. Swirling steam and hot water enveloped them, Draco closed his eyes and counted his pounding heart beats, as he willed himself to relax. Harry murmured something, nothing, in his ear, Harry finally started moving and the tightness and discomfort eased.

Harry reached around him and took hold of Draco's cock, stroking him. Draco cursed him and braced himself against the wall, trying to keep his feet from slipping on the slick shower floor as Harry finally picked up the pace.

The filthy slap of their bodies together and the drumming spray of water was almost too much. Draco could feel his balls drawing up and fought to keep control, glad that he'd come less than an hour before so that he wouldn't embarrass himself. Draco bit the inside of his cheek to keep from crying out as Harry's tempo became frenzied.

"You're so tight...you feel so good...oh fuck...not going to last" Harry panted. He let go of Draco's cock to grip his hips tightly with both hands, his fingers digging into Draco's flesh as he increased the pace. Harry threw back his head and cried out, his cock buried deep inside Draco as he came.

Draco sagged against the shower wall, as Harry gave gasps of pleasure, he slowed his pace, milking his orgasm out before collapsing against Draco. Harry's hands joined his, their fingers weaving together, he rained kisses along Draco's neck and shoulders, their bodies still united.

Harry reached around and gripped Draco's cock, his fingers making a tight circle and Draco began to thrust into it, desperate for release. Harry was kissing the back of Draco's neck, sending shivers of pleasure to the pit of his stomach as Harry's teeth and tongue glided along his shoulderblades.

He leaned back, resting his head on Harry's shoulder. Draco felt the rasp and drag of Harry's whiskered chin against his skin as Harry's lips and teeth, nipped at his ear lobe. Draco couldn't hold back any more, he came, biting his lips to hold back his cry as Harry's hand gently stroked him through it, the water washing away his come. Hands turned him and they stood facing each other.

Draco studied the features of Harry's face, from the wet fringe flattened against his skin, to the curve of his lips and the thick growth of whiskers on his chin, remembering the scrape of it against his skin. It was hard to believe that this was happening. How had they ever gone from classroom enemies to lovers?

Harry ran his hands up to Draco's neck, his fingers gliding along his jaw, Harry groaned and leaned forward. They kissed, water running down in streaks down their faces as Draco opened his mouth to his tongue, he held Harry's head as they teased and tasted each other. Running his fingers through Harry's wet hair, Draco kissed his jaw and running his tongue along the sensitive skin along the line of his neck.

"The hot water is going to run out," Harry said, in a whispered kiss against his skin. Draco didn't care, he could've fallen asleep standing and it was only the tug of Harry's hand that pulled him out of the warmth of the shower.

OOO

"The sheets are a mess," Harry said when they finally left the bathroom. Draco looked over at the bed and had to agree. There were large purple streaks stained the white linens. He was so exhausted, he couldn't even think about finding clean sheets. "You can sleep on the left this time," Draco said as he hitched the towel around his waist a little tighter, looking over at the where the worst of the stains were.

"Gee, thanks." Harry hadn't bothered to cover himself. He walked bare-arsed over to the dresser and picked up his wand.

"What do you have in mind?"

"A Scourigfy should get the sheets clean enough to sleep on," Harry said, turning towards the bed.

"Pomfrey wanted us to wait."

"And do you always do what the professors tell you to do?" Harry raised his wand, "Worst case scenario, I blow up the bed."

"If you do, I get the sofa," Draco said, but as Harry started to cast Draco stopped him by putting his hand on Harry's wrist. "If the bed does blow up, do you think it is good idea to be standing naked right next to it?"

Harry looked down at his limp - and still purple - cock. "You have a valid point."

They retreated to the doorway. Draco closed his eyes as he heard the spell being cast, focusing on the flow of magic in his own body. He heard Harry cast the spell and...and there was a faint pulse of magic in his own wand arm. Draco opened his eyes and Harry was watching him. "Did you feel it?"

Draco nodded. "I felt it a tingle of magic but not like I would've if I'd thrown the spell. Did it feel any different for you?"

"I could feel the vibration of it leaving my fingertips going into my wand, but it wasn't too strong, but then I didn't put too much force behind the spell, just in case."

"Well I didn't hear an explosion, which surprises me. I was sure you'd destroy the room." Draco walked to the bed. The sheets were crisp and clean, although faint purple marks were still visible. "Well done." He was so exhausted he could practically hear his pillow singing to him, luring him to sleep.

He walked to the bureau and pulled open a drawer to get out a pair of pajama bottoms.

"Don't." Harry spoke from the bed. Draco looked over to see Harry lying on the bed, naked and beautiful. "Don't put on any pajamas."

"That's rather odd, Potter," Draco said, but he closed the drawer and slid into the bed. His body was still humming with pleasure from the sex and he couldn't protest when Harry turned towards him and ran his finger along Draco's arm, idly circling and following the pattern of their bondlines. Their legs were entwined and Draco had no regrets about not wearing pajamas as he felt the warmth of Harry's skin against his own.

"Let's just keep going like this, not worry about what we should or shouldn't be doing, or what's going to happen next," Harry said quietly. All Draco could do was nod as Harry turned and buried his face against Draco's neck. Draco closed his arms around Harry and let himself fall into exhausted sleep.


	13. Visit from George

Harry watched as Draco put the last of the dishes away. He didn't need the bond to tell him that Draco was anxious. They both were. The last five days had been easy; actually, they'd been pretty damn amazing. Somehow they'd both been able to set aside all the doubts they had and just enjoy being with one another. Harry had never realized how comfortable it would be to wake up beside someone, feeling the warmth of their body next to his own. Most mornings they spent in bed, sating their need for each other before reluctantly getting out of bed and starting the day. They'd study in the afternoon, dutifully completing the homework tasks that appeared on the table each morning. Evenings were spent reading or playing chess until he or Draco would tug the other into the bedroom.

Tonight was different: George was coming the next day and Harry knew that his visit would signal the start of having to adjust to the outside world again. As selfishly as he wished that they could stay in the cottage indefinitely, he knew it wasn't realistic. They needed to return, they just had to find a way to not lose what they'd found with each other.

Hermione and Ron had written letters that hinted that the Prophet was having a field day writing about him and Draco. The last one from Hermione had said that McGonagall had lectured the entire school at dinner the night before that his and Draco's lives were not to be gossiped about.

Harry picked up two glasses with one hand, and the whiskey bottle with his other. Draco raised his eyebrow, they hadn't touched the whiskey since that first night. Harry gave a shrug. "I thought we could use some liquid courage tonight."

They ended up on the sofa, leaning against the arm rests, their legs stretched out next to each other. Harry sipped his whiskey as he watched the fire burning in the fireplace. Winter was coming, it had been overcast and bone-chilling cold all week. There'd been a few snow flurries already and now sleet was pattering against the windowpanes. Draco had a book open on his lap, but he was leaning with his head back against the armrest, staring up at the ceiling.

"It doesn't have to change things. Going back there with everyone else."

Draco didn't look at him, Harry only knew Draco had heard him by the tightening of Draco's grip on his glass as he lifted it to his lips. "It will," Draco said, so softly that Harry could hardly hear him over the sound of the wind and sleet hitting the window.

It would.

Harry thought of the last time they'd eaten in the Great Hall, every pair of eyes in the vast room fixed on them. It had been as bad as his worst days in previous years. He hated being the focus of everyone's amusement, or worse, scorn. And now the bond was just one more reason for people to stare.

"We just need to not let it affect us. We'll still have our own room. We can shut them out when we need to be alone." Draco snorted and Harry knew the scorn was deserved. It was easy to say to say the words, but it would be far more difficult to do it.

Harry reached over and started to massage Draco's sock covered foot. Pressing his thumb into the arch, rubbing it in soothing circles. Draco flinched for a minute and then relaxed, closing his eyes and letting Harry tend him with touch. A log broke apart, sending a flurry of sparks up the chimney.

Draco's foot slipped from his hand as Draco sat up. Harry opened his mouth to protest but Draco slipped behind Harry so they were lying together, heads resting on the throw pillow, just like they'd slept that first time in the cottage. Draco's arm wrapped around him, pulling him close. Harry shut his eyes, feeling the reassuring steady beat of Draco's heart against his own.

OOO

Draco was still asleep when Harry went to look out the bedroom window. George would be coming in a couple of hours. The weather had cleared; sunshine was breaking through the clouds and shining down on the field between the cottage and the Quidditch pitch.

They'd stumbled to the bedroom in the middle of the night. Draco cursing as he stubbed his foot in darkness. Harry had tugged Draco on top of him, loving the confident stroking of Draco's hand on his body. By now Harry could identify every freckle and scar on Draco's body, he knew exactly the touch needed to make Draco gasp with want, and Draco knew every spot where his tongue could make Harry beg for more. He didn't want this to end.

Sighing, he pulled the curtains closed, blocking out the sun. Wanting to let Draco sleep he quietly slipped out of the room. It didn't take long to assemble the basics for breakfast, Draco liked a big breakfast. Harry plated up the sausages and eggs and cast a warming spell on the plates to keep everything hot until Draco woke up.

Pulling on his thickest jumper and a scarf around his neck, he took his mug of tea and went outside. He wrapped both hands around the mug to keep his hands warm in the frigid air. Most of the leaves were off the trees and they rustled and crinkled under his feet as he walked.

He could sense Draco waking up, the connection between them suddenly relaying to Harry the sensation of tension and then the tightening feeling of worry. Turning his back to the woods he hurried back. Draco was dressed and standing by the window. "Hey, sorry, I wasn't here when you woke up. I thought you would sleep longer."

Draco gave a shrug of his shoulder. "I made more tea."

They sat at the table and Harry noticed that Draco was mostly pushing his food around the plate, not eating. The bond shared Draco's anxiety and Harry knew that Draco must be feeling his own. The comfortable silence that they usually had in the morning was gone, in its wake was tension so tangible that Harry could feel the bond trying to pull them together.

"We're just assuming that George is going to tell us that McGonagall wants us back in the dormitory. We could be wrong."

"They used him to deliver the bad news last time." Draco's fingers gripped his fork tightly as he jabbed at a sausage.

"Yeah, and that didn't turn out to be that terrible, did it?" It was hard for Harry to believe how hesitant they'd been a week ago. "We'll just tell him to tell them that we aren't ready."

"I don't want him here." Draco's eyes met Harry's for the first time since they'd sat down at the table. "I don't want him to touch you."

A jolt of energy traveled through Harry's bond arm as he felt Draco's jealousy gripping his own heart. Harry went around and straddled Draco's lap, resting his head on Draco's shoulder. Draco slipped his hands under Harry's jumper, running them down his back. Skin on skin always felt best to them both, Harry loved best falling asleep with his arm around Draco, feeling the warmth him. Harry reached down and pulled off his jumper, Draco put his hands on Harry's chest, his fingers splayed over the curse scar.

Draco nuzzled at Harry's neck, his tongue and lips sucking and licking against the morning whiskers that Harry had not yet shaved.

"Mine." Draco growled against his skin.

"Yours." Harry agreed.

OOO

At the appointed hour Draco set next to Harry on the sofa, waiting. Draco didn't bother to pick up his book or anything to do anything to keep his mind off what was coming. He was embarrassed by how he'd shown his jealousy to Harry but he had not been able to hold back. His body still tingled by how Harry had tried to reassure him. He wondered how long this need for each other would continue, when the bond would let Harry go his own way.

The knock on the door came and Harry gave his hand a reassuring squeeze before getting up to open it. Draco followed him to the door. Harry looked at Draco but said nothing as Draco put his arm around his waist, pulling Harry tight against him.

George Weasley looked at them from head to toe and he gave them both a grin that went from freckled ear to… the missing lobe on the other side. "What a difference a week makes." He reached out and clasped Harry's shoulder before Draco could move him out of the way. Draco sucked in his breath but before he could say anything, Harry had shrugged George's hand off of him.

"Best not, George."

"Oh, _ho_ , that is the first question answered." George gave them a more appraising look. "Why don't we sit down, how are you boys doing at sitting after a week of fun? Hope it doesn't hurt you too much."

Draco saw red, he took a step towards the bastard but Harry held him back, his fingers digging painfully into Draco's forearm "George, knock it off."

Weasley laughed and turned to walk into the room, sitting down on one of the armchairs he stretched his legs out. Harry tugged on Draco's arm pulling him to sit next to him on the sofa.

"Relax, Malfoy. I'm not interested." Weasley was grinning again. "Harry doesn't have the right assets."

Harry's face was bright red with embarrassment and he squeezed Draco's thigh reassuringly. "What's the word from the McGonagall? If she is going to make us move back to the castle, we aren't going to do it."

Wesley laughed again. All the Weasleys had the same annoying belly laugh, Draco thought bitterly. "Is that what you thought I was going to tell you?"

Harry leaned back with a whoosh of released breath and even Draco felt a little of his tension ease. "We don't want to, we just thought that they'd make us since the bond is complete."

"It is complete, but just think about Malfoy's reaction to me, you two wouldn't even make it through a walk down a crowded hallway without challenging someone to a duel because you or he thought that a classmate was giving the other the once-over."

Jealousy raged through Draco at the thought of anyone coming near Harry. Harry gave his leg another squeeze. "So how long does it last? The jealousy?" Harry asked Weasley.

"No way of knowing, but you need to be around people to make the two of you used to it. Ideally, a bonded couple would be able to be with family and get used to being others in places like walking around town, etc. Not an option for you two, of course."

"Why not?"

"You two going for a walk anywhere in the wizarding world? You'd be mobbed, you know it. The Prophet has been having a good old time this past week. I was harassed just walking up to the school from Hogsmeade. But don't worry about that. We – and, by we, I mean Malfoy's mother and my mum and McGonagall and Pomfrey - they let me sit in but I have a devil of a time getting them to pay any heed to what I'm saying, but on this I agree with the witches. Best thing to do is start slowly."

Draco sat up straight and looked over at Weasley. "What do you mean by that, exactly."

"I've brought a schedule. Visitors each day, all couples so that you don't feel threatened by them." Weasley pulled a folded piece of paper out of his front jeans pocket and with a flick of his wrist sent it over to land on Harry's lap.

Harry unfolded it and held it up so Draco could see it. Ron and Hermione were first, of course, Draco saw. Then Blaise and Luna Lovegood, of all people, and then Ginny Weasley and Longbottom.

"Don't we get to choose?" Draco hated the idea. This was exactly what he didn't want. Harry gave him a worried look and Draco tried to calm down his reaction so Harry wouldn't know how jealous he was at the idea of sharing Harry. It was the bond, he knew, making him feel this way but he couldn't stand George being here, how was it going to be when there were even more people intruding.

"Face it, if it were left up to you, you wouldn't let anyone in. Madam Pomfrey said she loosened the wards, but you didn't tell anyone to come."

"We weren't ready." Draco looked at the paper again. "Why Zabini and Lovegood?"

"They both asked to see you. They aren't a couple but we figured it was a good idea to have someone from Slytherin."

Draco thought about the few, tense, conversations he'd had with Blaise in the first few weeks of the school year. Blaise hadn't wanted anything to do with him, afraid of the taint of the Malfoy misfortunes to rub off on him.

"Leave Zabini off, Lovegood can come by herself, or pull someone else," Draco said. "He just wants in because he think it will make him look good."

"How about someone else from Slytherin? It isn't fair that it is only my friends that come." Harry said, and Draco could feel Harry's anxiety. 

"It doesn't matter." Draco glared at Weasley. "What is the point of the visits?"

"We were thinking that they could come and study with you. Doesn't have to be long, just a couple of hours each afternoon after classes are out."

Two hours? Two hours was a huge amount of time to have to share Harry. Draco was already ready for Weasley to leave and he'd only been in the house for ten minutes.

"What's next. You said this was the first step."

"Right, next one is for you to come over for your double Potions classes on Mondays and Thursdays." Harry was already protesting but Weasley held up his hand to silence him. "You both arrive after the class starts, and you can sneak out before it is dismissed, that way you can scamper back here to your love nest and get used to being around other people, and they're all your eighth year classmates so they are used to being around you, not like the first years who'd be staring at you gap-jawed."

"They'll still stare." Draco disliked the sympathetic look that Weasley gave him. Harry was tapping his leg and Draco could feel the anxiety.

"Get used to it, you two are going to be the focus of a lot of attention, so the sooner you start showing your faces and others can get used it it, the better."

"What else?" Draco knew it wasn't going to be just going to classes, they were going to be forced to do more.

"Well, the other problem is that the Prophet has been getting everyone whipped into a frenzy. Their stories are making it sound like it is a Malfoy plot-"

"THAT'S CRAZY-" Harry started to stand up and Draco grabbed his arm.

"I know, I know, settle down, Harry. Anyone with a brain knows that firebonds can't be forced on another. Doesn't matter, they are using the stories to sell papers. The only way to get them to stop is to give them a better way to sell papers, make them sell a different story."

"The Prophet isn't interested in the truth-"

"They are, if they can get photos." George pulled a camera out of his jacket pocket.

"No. Not happening-"

"George! I can't believe-"

They'd both spoken at once and Weasley held up his hands again. "McGonagall and Mum don't approve either, just hear me out." Harry slowly sank back onto the sofa and Draco could feel the strum of Harry's anxiety through the bond.

"What's your idea?"

"The Prophet wants to sell papers, that is what they do. If they can't sell an upbeat feel-good story they'll sell a negative one. And they are doing it with you two. You can just ignore it and they will turn the entire Wizarding world against you, or you can force them to turn the focus of the story around."

"How would we do that?"

"Photographs. They don't have any photos of you two together after the bond. They will sell thousands, tens of thousands if they can get a good photograph of you two on the cover-"

"Why would-"

"We'll give them the photograph they need only if they print stories that are positive. We force them to do more stories with promise of more photographs. Any negative articles will mean no more photographs. Trust me, they'll do what we want them to do."

"It won't work-"

"I already talked to Biffleberg, she's the editor. If you give them a photo they can use, they'll do it."

"So much for journalistic integrity," Harry muttered before he looked at Draco. "What do you think?"

"I don't think we have a choice," Draco admitted reluctantly. He hated the idea of it, but if the Prophet was ruining Harry's reputation then all they could do was to try and restore it.

"Okay. But we get to approve the photographs, before you give them to the Prophet." Harry gave Draco's hand a squeeze. "What do you want us to do?"

"Let's get outside. I want you to work on the bond, forget about the photographs for now. I assume you've ignored Pomfrey and have been doing magic?" They both nodded. "Any problems? Anything interesting?"

"No, it works fine, it's different but not bad," Harry said and Draco nodded.

"That's good. You'll want to get used to it before going back to the castle." George grinned at them, "Let's go outside."

OOOO

Harry saw two brooms leaning against the side of the cottage as soon as they stepped outside. "We're going flying?"

"You and Draco are, I'll be on the ground ready to cast a cushioning spell if you need it."

Harry laughed, "You really expect us to fall off our brooms?"

"Maybe." George reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a kerchief. "Who wants to be blindfolded first?"

"You want us to fly blindfolded?" Draco gaped at George and Harry stomach flipped at the thought of Draco being in danger.

"Yup."

"Why?" Harry asked as he felt Draco's anxiety rising through the bond. He reached out and put his hand on Draco's back reassuringly.

George grinned, "You are going to fly your own brooms, but the bond connection should allow you to stay safe."

"Should? What do you mean should?" Draco glared at George.

"It worked for Fred and me, it should work the same for you two," George said as he held up a purple handkerchief with the Weasley Wizard Wheeze's logo on it. "Firebonds aren't the exact same as bloodbonds but I think it should work. Willing to try?"

"We'll try it. Why don't I go first." If anyone was going to get hurt, Harry wanted it to be him, he wasn't going to risk Draco.

"I'll go first." Draco grabbed for the cloth but Harry beat him to it.

"Me first, then you."

Draco started to object but Harry grasped Draco's hand, pressing their bondmarks together. "If I get in trouble, I take off the blindfold. Nothing will happen."

Draco's nostrils flared in protest but he allowed Harry to put on the blindfold, even helping him tie it tight around his head. Harry's stomach flipped as his vision went dark, but then he felt Draco's arm around his waist and leaned back into it.

"What now?" Harry turned towards where George had been standing.

"First, a test on the ground. I'm going to cast a _Silencio_ on Harry so you can't hear Draco's footsteps and Draco is then going to walk away from Harry, any direction. Harry, you count to twenty and then walk towards where you think he is."

"You won't let me wander into the Forbidden Forest, will you?" Harry said with a laugh as he felt Draco's hand squeezing his waist.

"Not too far in, I promise," George said. "Here's the _Silencio_."

The sounds of the world disappeared. No birds, no wind, no rustling leaves. He gave an involuntary flinch and Draco pulled him even closer. Harry could feel Draco's agitation through the bond, and knew that Draco was likely arguing with George.

"It's okay. I'm okay." Harry said, hoping that he wasn't shouting; strange to not hear one's own voice. He patted Draco's hand reassuringly. "I'm okay. Walk away. I'll find you." Harry was confident he could do it. The bond was so strong at that moment he could feel Draco's heartbeat through it. Draco must have believed him because he squeezed Harry's hand and then let go. The sudden sense of loss shook Harry and his stomach gave a flip as he felt Draco move away through the bond. He strained to hear which way Draco had gone, but there was nothing to hear.

Realizing he should be counting he started, counting quicker and quicker as he felt Draco's anxiety rising in the bond. "Twenty," he said at last and turned in a circle. He shut his eyes behind the blindfold, needing to shut off the urge to use them. He felt for Draco's pulse, it was still there, beating hard and fast. Harry turned around again, slower this time, and stopped when he could feel it the strongest. Hoping he was right, Harry took a hesitant step forward, and then another.

The bond was humming, the low deep thrum that it got when Draco and he were in bed together. Harry broke into a smile and walked with confidence: he knew he was heading towards Draco. When he tripped, his arms reached out in shock, and he gave a shout. His breath went out of him but then Draco's arms were around him as Draco caught him. Harry gave a laugh of delight and all the sounds around him came back with a rush as Draco kissed him. Harry put his arms around Draco and just reveled in the pleasure of their connection. Draco's fingers fumbled at the blindfold, pulling it off

He'd forgotten about George until there was a pop and there was a shower of red and green sparkles raining down on them. Harry felt Draco's shoulder muscles snap taut as he pulled away from Harry. Harry kept his arms around Draco's waist, keeping him close.

"No need to ask what you two have been up to for the past week." George laughed as he walk towards them.

"How did you know the bond would work like that?"

"Just a guess. I once got trapped in Filch's office trying to liberate some inventions that he'd confiscated. I hadn't told anyone where I was going, and I had the map with me. But the bond led Fred straight to me." George gave a half-smile, "Of course, we didn't quite celebrate being reunited like you and Malfoy just did."

"Could you-" Harry stopped himself, he wanted to know if George had been able to feel Fred's pulse through the connection, but didn't want to force George to talk about Fred. "I didn't think it would work, but it did." He picked up the blindfold from the ground. "Should we try it in the air now?"

"Why don't you try one more on the ground?"

"It was easy. There was no doubt, I want to see how it feels like when we're flying." Harry started to tie on the blindfold but Draco's hands stopped him.

"My turn."

"What? No, I'll-" Harry tried to grab the cloth back from him but Draco gripped it tightly in his hand as he looked at Harry, his grey eyes glittering brightly.

"You went first, now it is my turn to wear the blindfold," Draco said.

"But-"

"Come on, Potter, we both know I can fly circles around you, even blindfolded," Draco said it with his old, arrogant, drawl. Harry laughed but shook his head.

"No. Let me-"

"Children, children we are going to be here all afternoon. Why don't I flip a galleon for the honor?" George took out his coin purse and held a gold galleon, turning it from side to side so they could see the goblin on one side and crossed wands on the other. "Draco, you call it."

"Goblin."

They all watched as the coin flipped upwards and then followed it as it arced towards the ground. Harry cursed as it landed goblin-side up. Draco smiled, raising his eyebrow as Harry conceded.

"We fly together," Harry said roughly as he walked around Draco to tie the blindfold on, taking care not to get Draco's blond hair caught in the knot. "I'll turn without telling you which way I'm going to turn and you have to follow me. And no _Silencio_ spell. Nothing is going to give away which way I go, and not being able to hear is too disorienting when you are in the air."

"Merlin, you're worse than his mother," Draco said into Harry's ear, as Harry fingers cradled the nape of Draco's neck, not wanting to let him go. He hated the whole idea of Draco flying blind. Walking around in a field was one thing but flying, all it would take was one slip for Draco to crash to the ground.

"He's right, Harry. Ease up. I'll be ready with a cushioning charm." George handed them both a broom. Draco ran his hands along the stock until he found the right spot and then swung his leg over the broom.

Harry had no choice but mount his own broom. He stood for a moment and concentrated on the connection to Draco, and hoped that Draco was doing the same thing. "Let's just hover in place first, then we'll see what happens, okay?"

"Yes, Mother," Draco drawled and he kicked off the ground and Harry cursed as he followed him. Draco pulled up on his broom twenty feet over the ground.

"Don't do that!"

"What, you are afraid I'm going to hit a bird?" Draco said the words casually but Harry noticed how hard Draco was gipping the broom, both hands wrapped tightly around the wood. The wind that hadn't been noticeable when they'd been on the ground buffeted now that they were twenty feet up.

"No. Hippogriff, maybe." Harry regretted the words instantly as Draco flinched. "Sorry, kidding. Nothing but air between us and the Quidditch pitch, and I won't let you fly into that. I'm going to fly forward a few feet."

"The idea is that you're not supposed to tell me where you are."

"George is down there and we're up here. My rules now. Just get used to flying blind and then we can see if we really want to test his idea."

"And if I want to and you don't?"

Harry hesitated, and he could feel Draco's annoyance through the connection. "Then we'll try it," he conceded reluctantly.

"Okay, then _fly_. I'll keep up with you."

Harry flew forward slowly and Draco followed, Harry focused on the bond feeling Draco's pulse and knowing that Draco must be feeling his own. It was amazing but Draco was able to stay within a few feet of him, just by following the signal. Harry's excitement forced away the worst of his worries and he started to circle, a slow arc that would not jar Draco. To his relief Draco was able to keep pace with him perfectly. He stopped and Draco pulled up next to him, a grin on his face.

"Told you."

Harry levitated closer to him and leaned in and kissed him. "You're were right, I was wrong."

"I love it when you say that," Draco said. "More?"

"Do we need to? We know it works." Harry reached over and slipped off the blindfold and Draco blinked at the sudden glare of light. "Let's not push it."

"And you call yourself Gryffindor," Draco said with a laugh, his hair blowing in the wind and the most carefree expression on his face that Harry had ever seen. "Race you to the pitch and back."

Harry gave a yelp as Draco sprinted forward. Dropping the blindfold he leaned against his broom and sped to catch up. Draco beat him to the pitch but Harry passed him on the way back. He landed next to George with a whoop, his feet touching the ground mere seconds before Draco.

"Have fun?"

"Yeah, it was good."

"Maybe you can remember that good ol' George won't lead you astray." George nodded towards the brooms. "That is the other part of your homework, this week, besides the visitors. Fly together. No need for blindfolds, now that you know what to do. Learn how the bond feels in the air. Fly forty meters apart and see how it feels different. Next Sunday, we'll be on the pitch, and I want you ready for practice."

"What kind of practice?"

"Quidditch, what other kind is there?"

They'd walked back to the cottage front steps before Harry remembered about the Prophet. "What about the photographs? Not that I want to do them but if-"

"Already done." George patted the pocket on his jacket. "You two are oblivious of everything around you when you start doing your thing."

Harry's cheeks grew warm. "What pictures did you take-"

"You're not sending anything to the Prophet without getting our approval." Draco took a step forward and Harry grabbed his arm.

"I'll owl the proofs to you. Destroy the ones you don't like. We give them one. If they keep their promise and stop printing the lies, we'll give them another."

To Harry's relief, George didn't linger after they put away the brooms. They watched him walk away and Harry felt Draco's tension ease through the bond. "That wasn't terrible," he said as they went back in the cottage.

"Not yet." Draco agreed and Harry thought about the visits from his friends. He hoped that Draco would be able to handle Ron and Hermione's visit. He was pretty sure Draco was jealous of his friendship with them. It was true that after everything he'd been through with them that they were still really close, but it had changed. Ron and Hermione were a couple now and it had been making him feel like a third wheel. Now it would be different though, he had Draco.


	14. A Visit from Ron and Hermione

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A quick post to end the year. Unbeta'd. Thank you to all who are still following this story.

Harry made a carrot cake. Draco told him that he was being ridiculous but Harry couldn't help it: this was their home and they had guests coming so they had to serve tea. He smoothed the frosting over the top and frowned at the lopsidedness of the cake. His aunt wouldn't have approved of his frosting job but she wasn't here to criticize and Draco wouldn't care if it was a little messy, so long as his piece had the most frosting.

It would be good to see Hermione and Ron, but Harry was also dreading it. They always shared everything but now Harry did not want to reveal the most intimate parts of when he and Draco bonded and he hoped they wouldn't ask him about it. Draco was nervous, too, even though he wouldn't admit it. Draco had fussing around the cottage straightening things. Harry ran his hand along his bondmark, hoping to send a reassuring message through the bond to Draco who had disappeared into their bedroom. Almost immediately Draco popped his head out of the doorway.

"Did you want something?"

"Uh, no, sorry. Was just thinking of you. They'll be here any minute." Harry looked at the carved wood owl clock on the mantle. "Remember they are just coming to study. No big deal."

"Says the man who made a tea fit for Merlin." Draco walked over and ran his finger along the edge of the cake, scooping up some frosting.

Harry batted his hand away from the cake. "Stop that. You can have a slice when Hermione and Ron get here." For the third time Harry checked the warming spell on the teapot, making sure it was holding.

Draco caught him around the waist and pulled Harry to him. "Why are you more nervous than I am? The only Slytherin in the room should be the one who is nervous."

"I thought Slytherins didn't show their nerves?" Harry rested his forehead against Draco's, closing his eyes he breathed in, loving the smell of his lemony aftershave.

"True. We simply plot revenge against our enemies."

"You had some good ones."

"I'm especially proud of the Potter Stinks badges. Quite a bit of charmwork went into those."

"Thanks. Appreciate that."

"You're welcome." Harry could feel Draco's shoulders shake as he chuckled.

"Seriously, why are you so nervous? These are your friends." Draco pulled back to look at Harry, rubbing his hands along Harry's arms reassuringly.

"It's not that I don't want to see Ron and Hermione, it is just that…"

"Do you not want them to see us touching?" Draco started to pull away and Harry shook his head quickly. There was no way they could not touch when they were close.

"No, it isn't that at all. I'm afraid they won't understand about us. You and I have come so far since we left the castle. I don't want to have to explain about the bond."

"Don't. It is none of their business." Draco said, his arms tightening around Harry. Harry knew Draco was right but it would be hard if they asked him about it point blank. Hermione was always curious and Ron...Harry didn't know how Ron would take it.

The knock at the door made them both jump back.

Ron and Hermione were bundled in their heavy winter robes, red and gold scarves wrapped around their necks to protect against the cold. Draco took their robes and hung them up as Harry led them into the front room.

"This is bloody amazing. This house has been here the whole time we've been at Hogwarts and we didn't know about it?" Ron asked as he went over to the fireplace to warm his hands.

"Yeah, we must've walked right by it dozens of times." Harry agreed. After that there was a dead silence and he fidgeted nervously as Ron and Hermione looked around. They were all pretending that nothing unusual was going on which made it even more awkward. To Harry's relief Hermione crossed over to one of the armchairs next to the fireplace and sat down, setting her book bag by her feet. Harry had been afraid that Ron and Hermione would sit on the sofa. He needed to have Draco next to him.

"Erm, I made tea. Maybe we can have that before we start studying?" Harry asked, glancing at Draco for approval.

"Do you need help, Harry?" Hermione offered, starting to get up.

"No, I have it all ready to go." Harry said over his shoulder on his way to the kitchen.

He carried the teapot from the kitchen, the tea tray floating behind him with the mugs and cake. Wandless magic was so much easier now, with their combined magic that he didn't even need to think about it as he flicked his hand to make the tea tray land on the low table in front of the sofa.

"Draco, would you be mother?" Harry asked as he sat down next to Draco and picked up the knife to slice the cake. Draco poured the tea, asking Hermione and Ron how they took theirs. A quick glance at Ron as he stuttered his request for two sugars and no milk was all Harry needed to see to know that his best friend for the last eight years was stunned by the domesticity of it all.

"Did you get the cake from the castle, Harry?" Hermione asked as he handed her a piece of cake.

Draco snorted as he handed Ron his tea. "No, he made it."

Ron gaped at Harry, "You made the cake?"

"Yeah, uhm, thought it would be good. You know food." Food has always been the best way to distract Ron.

"It's delicious, Harry. I didn't know you could bake." Hermione said as Ron stared from the cake to Harry.

Harry shrugged as he sat down on the sofa, balancing his own plate of cake on his knees. "Guess it never came up. George brought a basket of food from your mum, Ron, but the rest of the week we've been on our own to make our meals. McGonagall thought it would help us learn to get along, or something."

"And did it?" Hermione asked.

"I guess," Harry said as he remembered Draco kissing him as he made breakfast that morning, and quickly took a sip of tea, hoping the steam would explain his cheeks growing warm.

"This is really good." Ron said through a mouthful of cake. "As good as Mum's."

"Thanks."

Harry sat back and tried to relax but he could see Ron staring at his arm. He and Draco were both wearing jumpers, the long sleeves concealing most of their bond marks.

"So, what does it look like-owww!" Ron rubbed his upper arm where Hermione has just hit with a stinging hex. "What!"

"Behave, Ron." Hermione hissed as she slid her wand back into her pocket. "Do you know when you'll be able to come back to the castle?" she asked.

"Next week for classes, but we'll come back here when we aren't in class."

"For the whole year? Or will you get to move back? Not fair that they are making you stay out here." Ron said as he polished off his cake. Harry wondered how Ron would react if he found out that Harry wanted to stay in the cottage with Draco. Probably think that he'd lost his marbles.

"Dunno, I think it depends on how things go." Harry shrugged and gave a quick glance at Draco. He seemed fine. Harry didn't feel any jealous feelings from Draco coming through their bond connection like it had when George had visited.

"I still think it is amazing that this cottage was here all this time." Hermione said as she looked around. "We must've walked past it hundreds of time. When George told us where it was, I still couldn't see it from the castle, not until McGonagall showed us the location to add us to the Fidelius protection."

"What is everyone saying, up at the castle?" Harry asked, not sure if he wanted to hear the answer.

"Uhm. There is a lot of gossip, especially with the young kids. No one quite knows what to think, but it got better after they banned the Prophet. Can't even get it smuggled in."

"It is?"

Ron nodded. "George told us about the plan to get your side of the story into the paper, maybe they will let that issue in."

"In the meantime, we brought our books." Hermione set down her mug and plate on the table. "We can help you catch up to in your classes so you are ready for next week."

They moved over to the kitchen table and Hermione pulled out her Ancient Runes textbook. "I'll go over the chapters Draco missed in runes while Ron shows you with the charm homework. I've written up an outline to make sure you cover the most important sections."

The last thing Harry wanted to do was study, but it was better than sitting and not talking about the big hippogryph in the room: the completion of the bond and how it happened.

Draco sat next to Hermione, their heads close together as they traced the pattern of the rune patterns together. Harry chewed on his lip as he watched them. He couldn't focus on anything Ron was saying about healing charms, all he could focus on was the engaged expression on Draco's face as he listened to Hermione explain some stupid, obscure runelore fact.

Harry stared down at his charm textbook, trying to focus, but he couldn't stop from sneaking looks across the table. Hermione's hair was a brushing against Draco's shoulder as they started sketching something on a piece of parchment. A dark grip of panic spread in his chest.

Draco lifted his head. "What's wrong?"

Harry felt like an idiot. How could he possibly be jealous of Hermione? "Nothing." He muttered, looking back down at his book.

"You can't be serious." Draco said incredulously, shaking his head at Harry.

Hermione and Ron looked from Draco to Harry in confusion. "What's wrong?" Hermione asked.

"You do know she's female, don't you?" Draco said, pointing his quill at Hermione.

"It's nothing, don't make a fuss." Harry said in embarrassment, not wanting Draco to spell out how ridiculous he was being. How could he possibly be jealous of Hermione?

"Switch places with me, Granger." Draco stood up and Hermione started to say something but instead just slid into the chair that Draco had been sitting in. Draco sat in her chair, directly opposite of Harry and stretched out his left arm. Harry didn't hesitate to rest his right arm against it so that their bonds were aligned. Even covered by the sleeves of their jumpers, Harry could feel the connection and gave a sigh of relief.

"You were jealous of Hermione?" Ron said incredulously. "You were jealous of _Draco_ and _Hermione_?"

"It wasn't me, it was the bond. It doesn't always react logically." Harry knew his face was bright red.

"But why weren't you jealous of me and Harry sitting next to each other? George said that he couldn't even get close to Harry without you snarling at him."

"I don't snarl, just protect what's mine." Draco said, glaring at Ron. "And if Harry had been interested in you, he would have had you a long time ago." Draco added. "And he didn't."

"How do you know?" Ron asked defensively.

"Ron!" Harry and Hermione said together.

"What? He just assumed that-"

"Not helping, Ron," Harry growled. "You know it doesn't work like that."

"Why not? I'm a fit block." Ron said, flexing his arms at Harry.

"Do you want Draco to be jealous of you?" Hermione was laughing at Ron.

"I can't explain why." Harry said. "Can we just get back to studying?" His face was flaming with heat and he felt like an idiot but a small part of his heart was fiercely proud of Draco.

"Well, this is why you are having visitors, isn't it? To help get these things sorted out?" Hermione said with a pleased smile. Harry had the feeling he was her newest pet project.

"Right. So we're okay now?" Draco said. His hair had fallen forward and was shading his eyes and Harry felt a frisson of heat as their eyes met. Suddenly there was an entirely new reason to finish studying so that they could have their home back to themselves. Harry shifted in his chair uncomfortably. Draco smiled and squeezed his arm before turning back to his textbook.

Hermione moved her chair several inches away farther away from Draco and gave Ron a nod. "Let's get back to studying, please."

Two hours later, Ron and Hermione finally headed back to the castle.

"Well, that didn't go terribly." Harry said with relief as he leaned against the door.

Draco laughed. "Other than you being jealous of Granger."

"Can we just skip that, please?"

Draco shook his head and took a step closer to Harry, boxing him in with his arms against the door. "I think we should most definitely talk about you being jealous. You have to admit she isn't my type." For one brief, terrible moment, Harry thought Draco meant that it was because Hermione was Muggleborn. "She's pretty enough, but she definitely doesn't have the right equipment." Draco continued, pressing his groin against Harry's.

"I know that, it is just that you are both so smart, and interested in ridiculous things like runes." Harry said, giving a growl of desire as at the glimpse of tongue as Draco licked his lips.

"Runes are very fascinating." Draco whispered against Harry's neck.

"Only to you two, Ron and I would rather talk Quidditch." Harry ran his hands along Draco's back, pulling him closer.

"I wasn't jealous of you and Ron sitting next to each other." Draco reminded him, kissing him along his jawline.

"Yeah, why was that? You certainly were jealous of George yesterday, and they look a lot alike." Harry had been sure that he would have to worry about Draco being jealous of Ron and he hadn't been in the slightest.

Draco tightened his lips and started to back away but Harry caught his arm and pulled him back. "Tell me. Why would you be jealous of George and not Ron?"

"Because you went to his house the night when we first bonded," Draco said, splashes of pink staining his pale cheeks. "You went to _him_ when you needed to get away from _me_."

Harry looked at Draco incredulously. "What? You didn't tell me that was why-"

"I didn't put it together until after he was here yesterday." Draco shrugged. "Stupid, I know, but I couldn't help thinking that if the bond had let you, you would be living with him right now."

Harry shook his head. "Draco, I don't know why I decided to go to George's that night, I just needed to get away and it was the first place I thought to go. Maybe because Fred and George left Hogwarts on a broom, too. I promise that it wasn't because I liked him like that. And you being jealous of him is no more stupid than me being jealous of Hermione."

Draco gave a little half-smile, "No, I think you being jealous of a woman is much more idiotic."

Harry closed the distance between them. "Maybe you need to show me just how stupid I was being." He slipped his hand under Draco's jumper. "In fact, I think we should celebrate that we don't have to worry about another visit for another twenty-four hours."

"In the middle of the afternoon? I'm shocked by your lack of decorum."

"You weren't shocked by it yesterday, or the day before, or the day before that-"

"Talk, talk, talk. I thought you were Gryffindors were supposed to be all-action."

Draco squeezed Harry's arse making Harry involuntarily moan with need. "Maybe you should show me how it's supposed to be done," he said breathlessly.

"Right, here?" Draco pushed Harry back so he was against the door, kicking Harry's legs apart as he pressed in against him.

"Hell, yeah." Harry licked his lips in anticipation, which made drew Draco's eyes to Harry's lips and he growled and leaned forward to nip at his mouth. Harry would never tire of kissing Draco, or the delicious taste of him. Harry reached between them, fumbling at Draco's belt, tugging it open as they kissed, sliding his hand along Draco's erection.

"Fuck me," he begged, wanting to feel Draco, needing the reassurance that he was the only one Draco wanted. Harry tugged up on Draco's jumper, wanting to feel Draco's skin against his own. Draco took over pulling of his as Harry yanked off his own. Harry loved the sexy look of Draco, his blond hair mussed, lips red from kissing, his pale chest flush.

"Turn around." Draco said roughly, breathing hard as he half-shoved Harry to face the door. Unfastening Harry's jeans, he yanked them down. Kicking his legs free of them, Harry gave a shiver of anticipation and braced his forearms against the door.

Draco summoned the lube from the bedroom. The magic was already moving between them, and he could feel their bond connecting as Draco ran his hands along Harry's back, arse. There was no way he would ever get tired of the connection they had through their bond.

Harry sucked in his breath as Draco's fingers began to tease and press into him. "Love you like this." Draco murmured as he leaned forward to kiss the nape of Harry's neck, his bare chest hot against Harry. "Needy and just wanting it." Harry thrust back, into Draco's touch, craning his neck as Draco whispered filthy promises in Harry's ear as he used his fingers to open up Harry.

"Enough. Fuck me." Harry said roughly, his knuckles white against the door. Draco tugged on his hips, pulling Harry into better position and then breached Harry without warning. Despite knowing what was coming, Harry gasped as Draco filled him.

Draco reached around for Harry's flagging cock, stroking it as he waited for Harry to adjust. Harry took deep breathes, biting his lip and giving a nod to show he was ready, not trusting his own voice. Draco gripped Harry's hips as he started to pound into Harry. "You know what I was thinking when we were sitting at the table studying with those two?" Draco said, "All I could think about was how I wanted to take you like this, bent over that table atop all the papers and books. Watch their faces as I fucked you."

Harry's eyes were squeezed tight as the discomfort gave way to pleasure, and he remembered to breathe again. "You should've done it," he managed to gasp out. "Oh, god. Yes, there, don't stop." His face was pressed against the door, and Draco threaded his hands threaded through Harry's as he found his rhythm, teasing Harry with long thrusts, nearly pulling out as Harry cursed him for more.

The bond was humming; Harry could feel it vibrating through the sweaty heat of Draco's skin against his own. Sex was the time when they were most connected and the magic of the bond heightened the sensations making it much more than just physical. He could feel the building ripples of pleasure that Draco was feeling, and the stimulation made his own all the more fulfilling. Harry clenched his arse and gave a laugh as Draco swore. "Don't do that, so close," Draco said through gritted teeth. "Want to make this last."

Harry clenched around him again and Draco gripped Harry tightly around his waist, as he thrust with rough strokes, crying out loudly as he came. "You fucker, you did that on purpose, I could've gone longer." He complained when he could finally speak. He fell forward against Harry, not pulling out, his heated chest heaving against Harry. Harry rested his head on Draco's shoulder, his own erection still hard with need.

"Bet your calves are killing you, all that exercise." Harry said as he turned around in Draco's arms. "Why don't you give your legs a rest?" Harry stroked his cock, he was so close he it wouldn't take much but he wanted Draco's mouth on him when he came.

Draco grumbled but he didn't protest as he sank down on his knees in front of Harry. Holding the base of Harry's cock, Draco slid his mouth along its length, encompassing it in heat. Harry knew he should shut his eyes, just watching Draco taking in his cock pushed him closer to the edge but he couldn't not watch: his blond head bobbing as he pleasured Harry, hair mussed and cheeks sucked in.

Draco looked up and saw Harry watching and with a gleam in his eye he pressed the palm of his hand against Harry's balls and perineum, massaging them as he stroked the base of Harry's cock with his other hand. It was too much. "Bastard," was all Harry had time to gasp before he was coming, thrusting, fucking Draco's mouth as he came.

Draco stood up and kissed him hard, the taste of come still on his tongue. "Let's take this to the bedroom." Harry said, licking at the taste and needing more. "I want you under me for round two."


	15. New Choices

Burying farther under the warmth of the duvet, Draco could feel the heat of Harry pressed up against him. Harry had his leg slung over Draco's hip, trapping him. After their frantic coupling by the door they'd come back to bed. The raw desperate need had eased, but they had spent the rest of the afternoon in each other's arms, needing the connection. Draco's bondmark had pulsed, sending warm tingles down his arms when Harry had held Draco tight.

Harry nuzzled at Draco's neck—his cock was half-hard as it pressed against Draco. He reached up and stroked Harry's arm, accepting Harry's need to be as close as possible. It was still hard for Draco to accept all the changes that had happened in the past two weeks, but when they were in bed together it was the one place he could stop worrying.

It felt like they had all the time in the world, but Draco knew that this wasn't the case. In just a week they would be back in the castle for classes. And it would be far worse than it had been when the school year had started. The first month of school had been tolerable, his own house had shunned him and he'd become good at avoiding the roving bands of students who wanted to make him pay for what had happened to their own families. Now though, it would be different, Draco knew everyone would blame him for the bonding. No matter what George managed to blackmail the Prophet into printing, their hero was bonded to a Death Eater and it would be Draco's fault.

The sharp tapping of a beak against the window glass woke Harry up. Draco started to get up but Harry motioned him to stay. "I'll get it." The owl pecked at the glass again, fluttering its wings as it tried to perch on the window sill.

The owl hooted its dissatisfaction as Harry clambered off the bed and pulled the window open and untied the large envelope tied to its foot. It flew to sit on the bedside table and snipped at Draco when he tried to whoosh it away with his hands.

"He must've been told to wait for a response. Who is it from?"

"George," Harry said, flipping it over and seeing the WWW emblem.

Harry tore open the envelope. There was a packet of photographs. The first two of them standing and walking, arm in arm. Photo-Draco's head nodding at something that Photo-Harry was saying. The last one, though, was of them up on their brooms right after Draco had found Harry. Photo-Harry was holding Draco's blindfold and leaned forward, they kissed and then both grinned and flew out of the photograph. For one brief second, as they gripped their brooms with their hands, the bond marks were visible.

"Which one? Or should we not do it?" Draco noticed that Weasley didn't put any note in with the photographs—it was up to them to decide.

"Do you think it will help?"

Draco shrugged, "It could. I hate to quote my father but he was a firm believer in getting the best publicity he could get, even if it took bribery and blackmail."

"That's what this is, blackmailing them with the photograph to get good coverage."

"Is that what we want to do?—"

"Yes. We send them this one." Harry pointed at the one of them flying. "No one would be able to accuse us of being forced into anything. It looks like we are having fun and is obviously not posed."

"They'll see the bondmarks."

"Let them see them. It proves that this is real."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Better to get it out there now, on our terms rather than waiting, knowing that they will try to sneak their own photographs." Harry held up the photograph. "Send this one back?"

Draco bit his lips. He wasn't ready for the world to see them like that, showing the bond. Harry looked at him expectantly so he waved his hand in consent.

"Okay."

Harry went and got a quill and ink and scribbled on the back of the photograph: "This one." He slipped it into the envelope and sealed it with his wand. The owl lifted its foot and waited as Harry tied the envelope back on.

They watched as the bird flew off into the dark

"If this doesn't work, we'll find another way." Harry pushed up his sleeve and Draco did the same and they stood together, their arms pressed together, uniting the bond. Their foreheads resting against one another. "I'm sorry I over-reacted about Hermione. I don't know what I was thinking." Harry said quietly.

"It wasn't you, it is the bond. That's why we are having to do all of these visits, isn't it?" Draco replied. "So we get used to it, know what to expect."

"I feel bad that all the people coming are my friends. Don't you want someone from Slytherin? What about Zabini?"

"No." Draco shook head.

"Why not? You two were pretty tight before."

"The only person Blaise Zabini is tight with is Blaise Zabini." Draco said, pulling away.

"What do you mean?"

"He looks out for himself and no one else. Who do you think owled the Aurors and told them about our fight?"

Harry's eyes flashed. "Zabini did that?"

"He saw me walking down the corridor afterwards and laughed because he could see I'd been in a fight. He told me that he had a bet with Smith that I wouldn't make it two months before being sent down. I'm sure he went straight to the owlery."

"I'll kill him." Harry straightened up and looked as though he was going to march straight out the door and up to the castle.

Draco laughed, although he didn't feel like it. "What exactly would that prove? The bastard was just trying to make himself look good. He's a Slytherin for a reason. He doesn't do anything unless it benefits him, and him alone."

"Why were you ever friends with him?" Harry looked at Draco in confusion.

"Because it was better to be his friend than his enemy."

Harry looked like he wanted to argue the topic and Draco when he just shrugged and dropped it.

They still had the rest of the visits to get through, with Luna coming the next day. Draco's tension came not from the fear of being jealous of her and Harry, but because he hadn't talked to her directly since apologizing at his trial. It had been nearly impossible to even look her in the eye, knowing what she'd gone through in the dungeons of Malfoy Manor.

"It will be fine. Luna, she's different. You know that, she doesn't see things like we do," Harry had said, trying to reassure Draco.

"Why is she coming?"

"She's always been a friend. Even those few years when no one else in school was talking to me. She stayed at the Burrow for a bit last summer until her father was out of St. Mungo's." Harry shrugged. "She is Luna, Draco, I don't think you have anything to be afraid of."

When the knock came on the door it was so powerful that it shook the house. Draco jumped out his chair in alarm. "What was that?"

Harry gave a delighted laugh and ran for the door, flinging it open. Draco followed a little more hesitantly, arriving just in time to see Harry being swept up in Hagrid's arms. Harry was grinning, looking between a beaming Luna and the giant as he was set down "Hagrid! Luna!"

"Hi'ya, Harry. It's been quiet without you around. Castle isn't the same without you." Hagrid patted a big paw on Harry's back.

"It hasn't been that long." Harry said before turning to give Luna a tight hug that made her squeal with delight.

"I hope you don't mind, Harry. I know he wasn't on the visitor list but I invited him anyway."

"Are you kidding, it's the best." Harry looked over his shoulder at where Draco was standing in the doorway. "Isn't it, Draco?"

Draco nodded and pushed the door open wide. "Won't you come in?"

"I think that will be a bit of a squeeze. I'll just sit out here while you visit with Luna."

"What? Don't be silly. We'll have our tea outside," Harry said.

It took a few whisks of their wands to get the chairs moved outside as Draco went to bring out the tea tray. Harry grinned as Hagrid carefully balanced one of the delicate hedgehog tea cups on his knee.

"So what has been happening? Anything new?"

"Well, let's see now. No points to talk about, of course, since they did away with that this year, but I'll tell you the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs have been working hard to stop all rumors about you two."

"And the Tillybiffles are blooming in the dungeons again," Luna said, nodding as she sipped her tea.

"Oh, that's nice," Draco said for lack of anything else to respond to her.

"Right nice set-up you have here. Nice to see this old place being used again. Always thought it was a damn shame to have it sitting back here unused all this time."

"We were amazed, had no idea it was here all this time."

"Hogwarts has its secrets, that's for sure," Hagrid said. "Well, I best be off. Time to feed Buck—" Hagrid's eyes flew wide open. "I mean time to feed Witherwings." He set his cup down and patted Harry's knee. "Be good to see you both back in the castle when you're ready."

Hagrid ambled away and Luna smiled at Draco. "Can you show me around inside?"

Draco who'd been quiet up until now blinked at her in surprise. "Sure, there isn't much to it."

They went inside and Luna glided through the room, browsing the books on the book case. "This is nice. I think the Darstinkles are happy that someone is living here now. They've been very lonely."

"Darstinkles?" Draco questioned.

"Don't ask," Harry whispered under his breath as he went to make a fresh pot of tea. Carrying the teapot he walked into the living room to find Draco and Luna sitting on the sofa. Draco's sleeves was pushed up and Luna was looking at the bondmark.

"Everything okay?" Harry asked as he set down the teapot.

"She wanted to see the mark," Draco said, his cheeks flushed deep pink.

"Is yours the same, Harry?"

"Erm, yes, but it is on my right arm."

"It is very lovely. And it is nice that it didn't hurt like the other mark," Luna said, patting Draco's arm.

Harry winced as he saw Draco's shoulder tense and he pulled down his sleeve. "What do you mean?"

"The Dark Mark." Luna stood up and wandered over to the fireplace as if she hadn't just brought up a forbidden subject. She picked up the carving of a unicorn and dusted it with her sleeve. "It will be nice for you to have Christmas here. Cozy if it snows and you have your Christmas tree and fireplace."

"Luna, I doubt we'll still be here at Christmas. McGonagall is pretty keen to get us back to the castle."

Luna shook her head, making her owl earrings jingling. "I'll bring the pudding when you have Christmas dinner." She set back the unicorn and smiled. "Time for me to leave. I imagine there is lots you two have to do to get ready for tomorrow. Tell your mother hello from me, Draco. I haven't seen her since last spring. She can come see me at the castle, but that might make her sad. Thank you for letting me visit."

They watched her walk out the front door, both of them too stunned to say good-bye.

"My mother?" Draco shook his head. "What does she mean?"

"I don't know, but I think I better make a cake just in case Luna is right."

An owl arrived an hour later, written in McGonagall's precise handwriting, it announced that Narcissa Malfoy and Molly Weasley would be coming for tea the next day at three o'clock.

They sat, tea cups carefully balanced on their knees. Harry's knees were shaking so bad that most of his tea was in the saucer instead of the cup. He didn't know if he should try to pour the tea back into the cup or continue to pretend like it wasn't about slosh over the side of the saucer and douse his trouser leg.

"When do you start classes again, Harry?" Narcissa asked. Harry jerked his head up and could feel the wet splash on his leg.

"I'm sorry?" he asked.

"When will you start attending your classes again?" Narcisa repeated.

"Oh, erm, next week, I think." Harry looked at Draco who nodded.

"We'll still be staying in the cottage for a little while longer but Professor McGonagall wants us to start going to classes on Monday," Draco said politely. He gave Harry a curious look and then his eyes went wide when he saw Harry's dilemma. He flicked his hand at the saucer and the spilt tea disappeared.

Harry slumped with relief and Draco flashed his dimples, shaking his head at Harry.

"It is remarkable, to see the cottage," Molly said, looking around the room. "Narcissa, you must remember M'Gerrity who was the gameskeeper during our years. He had a Christmas tea for each of the houses."

"I do remember, he was such a nice man. Remember how he loved Quidditch? He was always the one cheering the loudest whenever someone scored — no matter whose side it had been. He just loved the game." Narcissa set down her tea cup and took a bite of scone, and Harry held his breath. Draco had distracted him whilst they were in the oven and they had baked too long. To his relief Narcissa took another bite, before setting it down. "Delicious, Harry. Draco had written that you were a good cook, but I think he understated it."

"I couldn't have done better," Molly said in agreement. "And here I've been fretting about you boys not eating well."

"No, it's been great. And we had all those meals that you sent with George, so I hardly had to do anything."

"Well, I brought another hamper. Hopefully enough to last you until you are back in the castle."

"I'm sure it will." Harry set aside his empty tea cup. "Would you like more tea?"

"No, thank you, Harry. We won't stay long. Molly and I only wanted to reassure ourselves that you both are settling into...this new situation."

"Yes, Mother, I wrote you and told you that we've been getting along. And the bond isn't a problem anymore." Draco took hold of Harry's hand, lacing their fingers together.

"We know, but you know how mothers are, need to be reassured," Molly said. "And we wanted to bring a copy of the Prophet. I have to say that George was right about giving them a photograph, and it is such a nice one."

Harry looked over at the Prophet, their photograph splashed across the front page with the headline "Bonded with Love." He'd winced when she'd shown it to them and hadn't been able to look Draco in the eye. Bonded with Love. It was taking things too far.

"And more importantly, we wanted to discuss what you two are planning to do at the end of the school year," Narcissa said. "Have you discussed it at all?"

"No… we've been still getting used to the bond," Draco said, pulling his hand away from Harry's. "We haven't decided anything."

"The bond will prevent you from becoming an Auror, I'm sure you realize, Harry," Narcissa said.

Molly nodded in agreement. "I think it is wise that neither of you rush into any commitments. You boys have a lot of adjustments to make. Arthur and I would like to invite you to stay with us at the Burrow when school ends, just until you get it all figured out." Molly reached over and patted Harry on the leg. "You'll be safe out of the public eye and there is plenty of room with everyone else moved out."

From Narcissa's quick turning of her head towards Molly, Harry was sure that Molly hadn't shared her plan with Narcissa.

"Uhm…." Harry blanched. "That is very generous—"

"But we couldn't impose on you like that." Draco said swiftly, cutting Harry off.

"It wouldn't be an imposition! There are four empty bedrooms, or five depending on what Ginny decides."

Harry swallowed hard, "I think we both need time to think about what we should do after we leave here before we make any kind of commitment as to where we will live."

"Well, if that is what you want. But if you change your mind, the Burrow is open to you, and I expect you to come to Sunday dinners."

"Yes, Molly. Thank you." Harry nodded.

"Since that is settled, shall I help you put away the hamper? A few of the things should go in your cooling cupboard."

Harry agreed, it would give Draco and his mother time to talk alone. Harry scowled at the hamper was overflowing with food. He wouldn't have any more reasons to cook for Draco. By the time they'd finished the food their time at the cottage was ending and he wasn't ready to accept that.

"Well, it all fits. I do hope it is enough," Molly said, tapping her chin with her finger.

"Molly, we scarcely can close the cupboards. It was really nice of you to bring so much."

"Nonsense, it was nothing but a little time in the kitchen yesterday. I noticed that you still haven't gained back the weight that you lost while you were gone last year," Molly said as she straightened a tea towel that had fallen off its holder. "George is coming on Sunday again?"

"I think so. He's been very good about helping us out."

"I think this situation has helped George as much as he has helped you," Molly said. "This year has been so hard for all of us but...for George." Molly's voice broke and Harry straightened with alarm as she blinked back her tears. "Arthur and I've been so worried about him, but since you landed on his roof...it has helped him."

"It has? I've been worried it's been worse, having to come back here."

"He's had something to focus on, he has been involved with everything. I know you don't want to hear this but we've had to have meeting after meeting with the Ministry about not interfering with you and Draco's bond."

"What?" Harry bristled. "What do you mean the Ministry—"

"Nothing," Molly said hastily. "They are going to do nothing to interfere, but it took some doings to convince them that the best thing to do was nothing, and George was the one arguing for you the loudest. And I think coming here to visit you has helped him even more. He'd been focusing so hard on the store, determined to keep it successful to honor Fred's memory. Coming here has pulled him away and helped him get a little more perspective."

"He's helped us," Harry said with certainty, "Draco and I would still be fighting the bond if it weren't for George."

"Good. I'm glad...you and Draco seem very happy together," Molly said, looking around the kitchen. "This seems like a true home to you boys, not just a refuge."

"We are going to miss it. When we have to go back to the castle."

"Why do you have to go back? Why not stay here and go in for your classes?"

"McGonagall wrote that she expects us to return to our rooms there, after this next week."

"Well, I think Narcissa and I will stop by her office on our way home," Molly said, battle-fire in her eyes.

"No! You don't have to do that."

"I know we don't, but clearly you and Draco should be here. Let Narcissa and I do this for you. We _want_ to feel like we are helping you."

"You are! Just look at all the food you brought."

Molly waved her hands dismissively. "That is nothing. It was obvious as soon as I had one of your scones that you didn't need my help with food." She picked up the empty hamper and looked around. "Where should I put this? You can put the empty dishes back in it and owl it back to me."

"Over in the corner is fine." Harry started to take it from her but Molly's eyes lit upon the box that had been kicked behind the door.

"What's that? It looks like something from George's shop?"

Molly started to pick it up and Harry, with a flash of horror, recognized the shiny purple box that George had brought on his first visit to the cottage. "It's nothing. Nothing. We should get back to Draco and his mother."

"What's in it?" Draco said, peering at the box that Harry had put on the table.

"I don't know. I barely stopped Molly from opening it, I didn't have time to sneak a peek, just got her out of the kitchen as quickly as I could," Harry said.

"Well, I say it contains some type of dildo," Draco said, poking the box with his finger.

"He wouldn't...would he?"

"He owns a sex shop! What do you think he is going to give us?"

"It isn't _just_ a sex shop…"

"Oh right, a joke sex shop. If that doesn't tell you anything."

"The card game and whiskey worked out pretty well for us," Harry said, heat rising in his cheeks. "Who knows how long it would've taken us to…erm."

"Fuck?" Draco drawled. "I think that is the word you are looking for."

Harry tried not to flinch—he considered what they were doing a lot more than just fucking but he wasn't going to tell Draco that, especially since he obviously didn't feel the same. Harry thought of the Prophet headline, 'bonded with love'. It was hard to know what he really felt about Draco but he knew he wasn't just fucking him.

"Are you going to open it?" Draco nudged him.

Harry ripped off the purple wrapping paper and lifted the lid. Nestled inside a nest of silver paper was a striped purple and black box. Draco grabbed it and gave it a shake, something metal sounding rattled inside. "Doesn't sound like a dildo."

Harry wasn't sure he wanted to know why Draco knew what a dildo sounded like, Harry didn't even know they _had_ a sound. "Give that here." He lifted the cover and there was an old-fashioned brass key ring with three keys on it. He picked up the keys and rattled them.

"What are these to?" Harry asked.

"There's a note." Draco plucked the note card from the bottom of the box. Harry read it over Draco's shoulder.

_Harry and Draco,_

_Sometimes a strategic retreat is the smartest thing you can do. I am giving you these Portkeys to give you that choice. After you leave Hogwarts, or even now, there are going to be a lot of people telling you what to do and what not to do. Don't listen to them. The Portkeys are a chance for you two to take the time and distance to decide what_ _ you _ _want to do._

_The silver key will take you to Boston in America; the gold one goes to Florence, Italy; and the iron one is for Cairo, Egypt. Whichever city you want to go to, take the other two keys off the ring and put them in your luggage for later. To activate you both hold on to the ring with the single portkey and tap it with your wand and say 'Discedita' and off you go. When you are ready to come back to England, just use the key ring by itself and say 'Reditum'_

_Use the keys today, tomorrow, or next year. You two get to decide. Oh, and don't forget to take the book with you, I'd hate for you to get bored._

"What book?" Harry asked.

Draco grabbed at the silver tissue paper in the bigger box. At the bottom of the box was a book. 'Sex: Wizard to Wizard' was written in fancy silver lettering on the glossy black leather cover.

"Oh. This is more what you were expecting, isn't it?" He grinned at Draco, "Who knows, it may have some positions we haven't thought of yet."

Draco gave a half snarl-half snort. "So long as he hasn't marked any pages. I've no doubt he's fantasized about you—"

"Hey, stop. Don't go there. That is just the bond talking. I've told you George isn't like that, he wouldn't do that." Harry hoped George hadn't marked any pages at least. That would be too weird. "What about the Portkeys? The most I've ever traveled was when I was on the run with Hermione and Ron? And that scarcely counts because—"

"Because a madman was sending hordes of dark wizards to kill you."

"Yeah, basically."

"Then you've been outside of Britain?"

"Not even close, before I came to Hogwarts a trip to the zoo was the most exciting outing I'd ever had. Well, there was the Quidditch World Cup but you know how that ended." Harry gave Draco a glance and quickly went on, they didn't need to dwell that that at all. "And then when we were in hiding out it wasn't exactly scenic. Did spend some time at Bill Weasley's cottage on the sea."

"I've never been to America or Egypt. Paris is nice, though." Draco said, as he picked up the key ring and examined each of the keys.

"It would be fun, wouldn't it? To take a gap year and just leave?" The thought of going somewhere where no one would recognize them and being able to do whatever they wanted sounded far better than getting a job right after school. To actually see the Nile or the Eiffel Tower...Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon would be green with jealousy if they found out. Harry grinned to himself. He would definitely have to send them a postcard.

"What's a gap year?"

"It's when Muggles take a year off to do what they want before having to go to university or work." Harry shrugged. "I never thought about doing it, but there is no reason not to is there?"

"Sounds expensive—"

"I have the galleons." Harry shrugged. "They are just sitting in the vault."

"But I don't," Draco said setting down the keys with a clunk on the table. "I'm not going to mooch off of you like—"

"Why not? It isn't like I earned the money, it's my mum and dad's and Sirius's money. Don't you want to get away?"

"It would just prove that everything the Prophet was saying about us was right. That I'm just—"

"I don't care what they think! Are you saying we can't go on holiday because some witch in South Umpsprinkle who has never met us doesn't think we should?"

"South Umpsprinkle?"

"Or wherever!" Harry pointed at the keys. "Why shouldn't we do it?"

"It isn't anything we have to decide now. We still have the school year to finish."

"Is finishing school so important?"

Draco squinted at him. "Isn't it to you?"

"I don't know, I just thought of coming back here was a way to put off being an Auror."

"Why did you say you were going to do it if you hated the idea so much?"

Harry gave a shrug. "Fifth year it seemed like a good idea, with Voldemort after me. Afterwards, though, it was what everyone expected me to do…"

"But…"

"But now I think we can do whatever we want."

"You can, I'd be lucky to get a job sweeping up animal dung."

Harry was just starting to make breakfast when there was a tap at the window. Draco took the scroll of parchment and fed the owl its treat. It flew off without a whisper of its wings.

"Who is it from?"

"McGonagall. The class schedule for the week. She has us taking the same classes, you have to go to Runes with me and I have to go to your Charms. Dropped you from Astronomy and I don't have the potions tutoring with the first years."

"Will that count against your probation hours? How many do you still need to fill?"

Draco shrugged, "Sixty or so. With being able to count my hours tutoring you in potions and the tasks she sent over here, it won't be a problem finishing by Christmas."

"Do you mind? Having to go to Charms?"

"No, I like Charms, just couldn't fit it in the schedule." Draco dropped the paper back on the counter. "You're going to hate Runes though."

"I'll bring homework. They can't expect me to do the classwork." Harry said as he turned the letter over to read the rest of what McGonagall had to say. He read the last line twice, blinked and read it again. "She says we don't have to move back to the castle. She says that we can stay here until the end of the school year."

"What? Really?" Draco took the letter from Harry and read it himself. Harry grinned at Draco's incredulous face when he looked up.

"Ron's mum said she was going to say something to McGonagall before she left but I told her not to…"

"Looks like she did, and I'm not complaining." Draco said as he tossed the letter on the counter.

Harry grinned as he turned back to the range. The water had come to a full boil, he picked up a spoon and stirred the water clockwise to make a vortex and with his free hand carefully slid the egg he'd already cracked into the water. To his satisfaction the egg formed a nice neat oval, that Aunt Petunia would not have been able to find fault with.

When he placed the eggs on the table with the toast and jam. Draco looked up at him in surprise. "You made poached eggs?"

Harry shrugged, "It's Sunday."

Draco half-stood out of his chair and pulled Harry to him, his fingers caressing Harry's neck. "Thank you."

Harry flushed and kissed him back, loving the feel of Draco's fingers rasping against his whiskers. Kissing Draco Malfoy across the breakfast table was not something he could have imagined six months or even six weeks earlier, but now he couldn't imagine not being able to kiss him good morning, not having him by his side.

"Your eggs are getting cold," Harry said reluctantly, breaking away. "So, what do you think George will have us do today?"

"More photographs. The Prophet isn't going to be satisfied with just one." Draco said grimly as he took a fork to his eggs. Harry bit his lip as Draco scooped some eggs up with his toast and ate a bite. "Perfect." Draco mumbled his approval.

Harry smiled at him and tucked into his own breakfast.

George never arrived. An hour after they'd expected him an owl came flying down from the castle. Draco took the note and read it aloud.

_Something has come up...not able to make today._

_Suggest you take your lessons from the book. About time you two opened the other box. Why don't you give page 135 a go?_

"What do you suppose came up?" Harry said, looking over Draco's shoulder at it.  
And how did he know we'd open the box?"

"Standard gift receipt charm." Draco said absently as he crumpled up the note. "Maybe he exploded his store with sex potions," He added as he walked towards the kitchen.

"Where are you going?"

"To see what is on page 135."

Harry laughed but when Draco looked over his shoulder and gave Harry a nod with his head towards the bedroom Harry realized the idea had some merit and was better than worrying what would happen the next day when they went to the castle for classes.


End file.
